Strange Fruit
by Ashantai
Summary: We met Syl briefly in AJBAC, but what was her life like before and after that? This is it, with many other characters playing major roles!
1. Prologue

Title: Strange Fruit  
Author: Ashantai  
E-Mail: ashantai@hotmail.com  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer: I own nothing and nobody.  
http://devoted.to/x5  
  


**Lincoln, Nebraska, USA - February, 2012**

  
"Do you like it there?" the woman asked; the child across from her pushed her greasy french fries around in the ketchup and didn't answer. "Sylvia?" 

She shrugged, busy listening to a conversation about ten tables away in the busy McDonald's restaurant. A teenager was breaking up with his girlfriend; what a horrible place to do something like that. 

"They seem very happy to have you with them." Syl wished she'd stop talking. It was Friday, she was tired, and she hated these meetings where her social worker pretended to care about her well-being as she ate disgusting fast food. She glanced up at Gail so the woman wouldn't think she wasn't listening. "They told me you get along pretty well with your brother. Jared, is it?" 

Syl nodded, and allowed a brief smile to cross her lips to appease the woman. 

"Sylvia? Look at me." She looked. "What's wrong?" Syl looked away again, started to speak, then bit her lip. She shook her head. 

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's the matter." After a long silence, Gail sighed, and Syl was overjoyed when she took another sip of her Coke and then picked up the tray. 

"Are you done?" she asked; the girl nodded. Gail threw out Syl's uneaten meal and turned to smile at her. Social workers are so dense, Syl thought. She was screaming for help; why couldn't the woman see it? 

"Oh, here's your ride," Gail said, looking past Syl to the parking lot. Inwardly, the girl breathed a sigh of relief, not bothering to turn around. Then her caseworker frowned and she walked toward the door. Syl turned to see her talking to someone, a man; Gail was in the way so she couldn't see who he was. Then she waved her over, and Syl stood and walked obediently to where the two were standing. Her whole body chilled as she realized who the man was. 

"Your uncle's going to drive you," she said; Syl's heart began pounding with fear and her hands started sweating. After a moment, her teeth were chattering in her head as she gazed up at him and he smiled down at her. Gail looked confused. "Are you cold?" 

Syl nodded. Gail handed Syl her coat and she put it on; inside the sleeves, her hands and arms were shaking. It was like one of her seizures, only worse because she was so damn afraid that her heart caught in her throat and refused to budge. She felt like she was choking as her caseworker waved goodbye and her foster uncle led her to his pickup. She climbed into the seat, didn't look at him. He didn't seem to mind as he slid in next to her. 

"David and Claire won't be home until late," he told her as he started the car, naming her foster parents. "And Jared's at a friend's house overnight. So David asked me to take care of you for the evening. We'll go to my place." 

"That's okay, Uncle Joel," she said in a near-whisper; he insisted she call him Uncle Joel. "I can go home and stay by myself." He laughed, and the sound caused chills to run up and down her spine. 

"Thirteen years old... you're such a little girlie," he said in a voice that made Syl shiver. Then he reached out and she began rocking slowly in terror as he laid a hand on her skinny thigh and squeezed. "Besides," he purred at her. "We'll have lots of fun." He massaged her thigh lightly before he drew his hand back, and Syl promptly threw up. 

  
He kept glaring at her the rest of the way to his run-down, cheap old house, and by the time he slowed the truck to a stop she had puked twice more. He punched her in the face the second time and the skin under her eye split open, blood trickling down her face. Then he made her clean the inside of his truck. He stood over her, watched her do it, while she sobbed with no sound. Then he took her inside, and her hands began sweating again in terrible anticipation. 

"Get over there," he said, pointing to his large, king-sized bed. It stank of him and, yes, even her; she walked over and sat down on it, still weeping. He took off his shirt, then looked up at her; his face hardened, he walked over and punched her in the face. 

"Stop crying!" he yelled as her head did a 180 from the force of his fist. She stopped immediately, an ability belonging only to children who no longer have hope, and laid down, turning away as he started to remove his pants. A moment later she felt his weight on the bed beside her; her body started shaking once more, and as she felt him reach out to grab her clothes and pull them off, she forced her eyes closed and tried not to feel what he was doing. 

  
_"Tell us about the Good Place, Ben." _

_"In the Good Place you're happy all the time. You never have to worry or be afraid. In the Good Place no one ever gets hurt, or yelled at, and you never have to cry."_

  
"I'm in the Good Place, I'm in the Good Place..." she told herself over and over again in her mind as she tried not to register her foster uncle's movements. 

"Shut up," he said, smacking her face. She felt a bruise forming; apparently she'd been saying the words out loud. 

  
_"In the Good Place everyone is laughing, and there's warm food and comfy chairs everywhere you look. No one is mean; no one wants to hurt you. People are smiling all around you, and the air smells like flowers all the time."_

  
Tears slipped down her cheeks at the peaceful memory; when she was young and safe. Her foster uncle had removed her shirt, she knew, and her bra. Now he was fumbling with the fly of her jeans. Syl began hyperventilating, but Joel mistook it for passion as he always did and closed his sweaty, foul-tasting mouth over her own. 

She couldn't breathe! She was going to die here, right now, under this pig of a man, and no one would find her because he'd get scared and dump the body. He was here, lying over her, sweaty and grunting and disgusting, and she would die because she couldn't breathe. All of this was comforting to Syl, but the sad reality was that she could actually hold her breath for nearly eight minutes, and Joel never lasted close to that long. 

He'd gotten her pants off, finally, grabbed them in his damp, sweaty hand and pulled them down with her underwear, tossing them aside. He was repositioning himself on top of her; she was shaking with fear at what she knew would come next. Inside, she hated herself. But all she could do was lie there, trying not to feel what he was doing, and wish she was dead, because the will to fight had left her a long time ago. 

Just as she could no longer ignore him sliding in and out of her like a slippery, slithering snake, there was a loud crash as the glass of his bedroom window shattered and a tearing sound as the curtains were ripped away from the staples that held them crudely in place. Joel jumped up fearfully, trying to see what it was. Syl thought it must have been a storm that had given her these few more agonizing moments of waiting, and sat up in the bed to see what her foster uncle was cursing about. 

But as she took in the scene before her, she realized that it wasn't any object that had been blown through the window, but a person had actually jumped through it. The thought of someone deciding to rob her foster uncle's house just as he was raping her almost made Syl laugh; almost. She watched with detached fear as he scuffled with the intruder, honestly not caring who would win, figuring that whoever did would come and have his way with her anyway. 

The thief was much shorter than Joel, she saw through the darkness, but he seemed to be winning. Not too much older than she was, the boy looked familiar, and after a moment Syl placed him. He'd been at the McDonald's with her and Gail, sitting at a back table by himself. 

Her foster uncle looked ridiculous, getting the shit kicked out of him with no clothes on. Syl reached for the bedsheet and wrapped it tightly around her naked body, hugging her knees to her chest. 

A moment later, her uncle went flying out the two-storey window and landed with a loud thud in the yard below. Syl backed away against the headboard as the intruder slowly turned on her. He was young, and fairly handsome, but that didn't mean she wanted him anywhere near her. She pulled the sheet tighter around her shoulders, knowing she was beautiful and wishing, not for the first time, that she wasn't. The guy walked over to the bed, sat down next to her. She shied away from him; he was breathing hard- was it from the fight or because of her? He reached out a hand to touch her and she jerked away. 

"You're okay," he said gently. "I'm not going to hurt you." Syl said nothing, scanning his posture; he was still tensed up from the fight and she found it threatening. She pressed her chin into her knees and tried to keep her body from trembling. "Can you tell me your name?" he asked. She stared at him and said nothing. Her eyes flickered to her clothes on the floor. 

The boy followed her gaze and got up and retrieved the clothing. She watched his movements as he returned and set them down next to her. "I'm going to turn around while you get dressed. Don't run. Not yet anyway." Then he turned his back to her and put his hands in his back pockets. 

Syl immediately grabbed her clothes and started pulling them on as fast as she could, not taking her eyes off of him. As she reached for her shirt to pull it over her head, she froze as his arm moved. But he was just scratching his neck, and his hand returned to his back pocket a moment later. Syl put on the shirt and hugged her legs up to her chin again. 

After a few moments of silence he asked, "If you're done, knock on the headboard." Syl reached out a hand without breaking her gaze from the back of his head and rapped once on the wood. "I'm going to turn around now," he said. "Okay?" Again she knocked on the headboard. He turned around slowly and smiled a little, a brief smile that lasted only a moment. "See? You can trust me." Syl glanced away so he wouldn't see the disagreement in her eyes, a habit she'd had for a while now. 

The boy moved slowly to the bed and sat at a comfortable distance from Syl; not too far, not too close. "My name's Michael," he offered. "Can you tell me your name?" There was a short pause. "Or you could signal it somehow... draw the letters if you have to." 

Syl narrowed her eyes at him slightly. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, affecting as close to an unfriendly posture as she could, hoping he'd leave. He smiled lightly at her attempt at toughness. "Don't try that one with me," he said jokingly. "My little sister Van is a lot tougher, and it doesn't bother me." At the mention of the name Van, Syl's heart froze and her eyes locked with his once more, hers full of questions. "I have a bunch of sisters," he continued. "Brothers too. I'm the oldest, I take care of them." He continued, "But I can't find most of them." 

Again, Syl narrowed her eyes, suspecting a lie. She gave him a look that plainly challenged his statement about taking care of them. 

He smiled genuinely at her. "Looking for them is the first step to taking care of them," he clarified. "The ones that I have contact with, I protect from anyone who might want to take them somewhere they don't want to be." Syl's eyes flickered to the broken window, then to the bed, still warm with Joel's violation. The boy read her thoughts and said, "Like here." She glanced away from him. "I'm sorry no one has ever done that for you," he said softly, almost painfully. "But maybe somebody should." 

She looked up at him again, her eyes questioning his presence in this room. 

"What happened to your parents?" he asked. "Your real ones, not your fosters." Syl's forehead sprouted with lines as she frowned, shrugging a little. 

The boy scratched his neck, considering this. "I never knew mine either." 

Her body relaxed just a little. Her eyes trailed to the broken glass of the window and she listened for any motion, but the night was dark and still. 

He followed her gaze and said, "He's probably dead." His voice was very precise. Then he turned back to her and continued, "I can take you away from here. I'm not going to take you to a doctor. Not if you don't want to see one. But one of my sisters is really good at that stuff. She can take a look and make sure you're okay." He paused. "Does your face hurt?" 

Syl's hand reached up and her fingers traced the fresh bruises, and the cut that skirted the edge of one eye socket. She shrugged. 

He nodded. "We'd have to go on a little bit of a road trip. My sister, the one I was talking about, lives in New Orleans. Her name's Grix. She's really gentle. Plus I'd be getting you out of here." 

Hearing Grix's name made Syl's heart race again, not in fear this time, but in anticipation as hope began to flood through her. She pushed the sheets away and crawled off the bed, certain now that he had lied to her. Slowly she raised her left hand and tapped two fingers on her right upper arm, signaling a request for a commanding officer. 

He chuckled. "Michael's not my real name," he admitted with a smile. "So you know military hand signals, huh?" Sarcastically following his earlier instructions, Syl snapped her hand out and slammed it into the headboard once. He chuckled again, then the laughter melted from his face and he took a breath, giving a small nod. "It's me, Syl." 

Her eyes closed briefly and then opened again, full of tears. Zack closed the distance between them and laid his palm against her cheek, caressing the back of her ear with his index finger. Syl was used to sexual touch, but this was loving, calming. She turned her face into the touch, raising her eyes to his face and seeing tears on her cheeks. She reached up slowly and laid her finger under one of them, scooping it up on the pad of her finger. Then she put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and one hand stroked through her soft blonde hair, parting it for a moment against her barcode. She sensed the last bit of doubt drain from his body as his lips touched the top of her head. "It'll be okay, baby sister, I promise," he whispered. Syl's body shuddered with relief and she clung to him, allowing the feeling to wash over her, craving it like someone who had suddenly found herself in a desert rainfall. She hadn't felt so safe since- she couldn't remember when she'd last felt so safe. He whispered again in a soft voice, gentle, "It's okay now."


	2. Chapter 1

Syl felt Zack's hand pressing into her shoulder lightly and she opened her eyes. She'd slept most of the drive after leaving her foster uncle's house in Zack's stolen truck, but she was surprised they were in New Orleans already. Not that she had any idea about where it was or how long it would take to get there. She looked around for Grix as she belatedly realized she was no longer in the truck, but in a bed. She scanned her eyes around the unfamiliar room and looked to Zack for an explanation. 

"Couldn't wake you up," he said. "This is my place." As he spoke his hands dismantled a 9mm, cleaning the various parts with a soft cloth. "Grix and Van will be here in a couple of hours. I decided to bring Grix to you instead of you to her. Besides, she has sector ID already. Are you hungry?" 

Syl nodded as her eyes went over the sparse room, furnished with nothing more than a mattress, which she was laying on, a couple of chairs, a television, a table, and a radio. Various weapons, newspaper articles, photographs, and other documents were spread out on the table and counters. Two duffle bags sat a few feet away, one filled with Zack's clothes and one with her own. She reached for the latter, pulling out at least half the wardrobe her foster parents had bought her over the years, which wasn't much. She selected a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. 

"Bathroom's over there," Zack said, pointing with part of the gun. "Hot water takes a couple minutes to kick in, but feel free to use as much as you want." Syl stood up and followed his direction and closed herself in the bathroom. She undressed and stepped into the shower, standing under the icy water as it gradually heated up, not used to having hot water at all. She washed her hair and then stood there for a while, letting the water scour her skin. When she was finished she shut it off and reached for a towel, drying herself off, ignoring the red stains she left behind. She donned her clothes and found a toothbrush sitting on the counter, still in its packaging, as well as a new hairbrush. She brushed her teeth and took the hairbrush with her, returning to the other room and sitting in one of the chairs, studying the photographs. At school, at her foster parents', at McDonald's, at the park down the street from her house, at the library, and even at her foster uncles- Zack had a collection of photographs of her. There was a schematic of her uncle's house, her foster parents' house, and her school, an attendance form for Zack to start school the following day under the name of Michael Hanover, and a document from her social worker's office containing notes on her case. Syl wondered how long he'd been watching her. 

Zack sat in the other chair, putting the last touches on his gun. He laid it down and looked at her. "I made food," he said, indicating the kitchenette that sat in the corner of the room. A bowl stood steaming on the counter, waiting for her. She went over and took a small bite of delicious stew, the vegetables and beef warming her quickly as she ate. She watched him rise and gather up the documents, bringing them over to the kitchenette. He poured some oil into a large pot and put it on the stove, waiting for it to heat up. "Move back a little," he ordered, and she obeyed as he struck a match and dropped it into the pot. Fire burst up, making Syl jump, and he dropped the documents into it. She watched the papers curl into ash and disintegrate one by one, oddly comforted by it. Zack fed everything into the fire except for the last picture, which he put carefully into a pocket in his duffle bag. Then he returned to the stove, turned off the element, and pulled up a chair beside her. 

As he opened his mouth to speak, there was a loud knock at the door. Syl froze, afraid it would be the police or her social worker come to take her back. She watched Zack reach for his gun and then walk to the door, pulling it open. The gun dropped to his side as he opened the door widely, admitting two girls, one a little older than Syl and one a little younger. He closed the door behind them and locked it as the younger girl immediately approached Syl, the older one hanging back to speak with Zack. 

"Syl," Grix said with a wide smile, leaning her arm on the counter next to her. Syl smiled at her and reached up to touch her brown hair, which was past Grix's chin and growing fast toward her shoulders. "I'm thinking of shaving it off again," Grix said jokingly. "Too much maintenance." 

Syl's smile widened a little and she glanced back at Zack and Van, who were scowling at each other but not talking. Syl stood up and waited. Van looked over and smiled a half-smile which was not unkind, saying in a voice just short of sarcasm, "You gonna come hug me or not, Sylvie?" 

After only a moment's hesitation Syl walked over to her sister and put her arms around her, holding her tightly. She felt Van tense slightly, as though she hadn't really expected Syl to do it, but after a moment her hand threaded through Syl's hair affectionately. Syl pulled back and then stepped back as Grix launched herself at Zack in an over-emphasized hug. Zack shoved her away, rolling his eyes. 

"Grix is too hyper for her own damn good," he said. Syl forced a half-smile, but she felt uncomfortable, and leaned back against the wall, studying Van's shoes. 

"It's your own fault," Grix said sarcastically. "You force me to ride in a car for six hours with Van. I'm a little stir-crazy." 

"Fuck you," Van said. 

"No, fuck your music," Grix answered. "What the hell is that shit called?" As Grix ranted at Van playfully, Syl retreated to the kitchenette again, pretending to be thirsty as she grabbed a glass and filled it with milk from Zack's fridge, sipping slowly. 

She felt Zack move up behind her silently and turned her head slightly to look at him. "She'll calm down," he said. "She's just nervous about meeting you." He chuckled. "Does a good show of hiding it though, doesn't she?" 

Syl half-smiled and then leaned back against the counter, using her foot to boost herself onto it. She winced slightly as that caused pain to course through her body, but she took a sip of her milk and said nothing, resting her eyes on a tree outside the window. 

"Van and I are going to go have a conversation," Zack told her. "You'll be okay with Grix. I'll be back within the hour, alright?" 

Syl gave a little nod of her head, turning back to Zack as she did so. Her eyes flickered for a moment from his face as she watched Grix flop on the bed, and Syl's body tensed. A moment later her little sister sat up and pulled back the blankets, the smile gone from her face instantly. Syl's heart starting beating faster, afraid she was going to get in trouble. Her knuckles tightened around the glass in her hands and her eyes fell from Zack's face in shame. 

Zack reached out and grabbed the glass, keeping it from breaking it in her grip. "Syl, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice thick with concern. 

Grix moved up behind Zack and put her hand on his shoulder. "You and Van need to go for that conversation," she said. "I've got to talk to Syl about some stuff." He made a face but complied, turning and leaving with Van. Grix moved to Syl and reached out a hand, tipping Syl's chin up. "Are you okay?" Syl nodded, sliding her eyes away from her sister. Grix ran her hand through Syl's hair and drew Syl's eyes back to her. "For the next little bit, we're going to play pretend," she said. "I'm going to be your doctor, not your little sister. I was medic at Manticore, I'm still medic out here. Anything you say to me or anything I figure out will stay between you and me, unless I have to tell Zack or Van." 

Syl narrowed her eyes at that last statement, questioning Grix silently. 

Grix inhaled a little bit as she thought about her answer. "If it's life-threatening or unit-threatening. That's the only reasons I'd tell." She smiled a little. "Does it hurt to sit?" 

Syl didn't think she wanted to play the game, but she found herself nodding. 

"Okay," Grix said, doing a mental checkmark in her head. "How long have you been going into heat?" Syl shrugged, trying to hide the confusion in her eyes. "It's okay," Grix said compassionately. "It happens to all the X5 females as far as we can tell. Feline reaction equivalent to an ordinary getting her period. It's normal for us." She tried a variation on the same question. "Have you gone into heat yet?" Syl nodded. "How many times?" Grix asked. 

Syl forced herself to remember and count. She uncurled all the fingers on one hand except for the thumb slowly, holding it out to her sister. 

"Four times?" Grix asked for clarification, and Syl nodded. Grix did quick math in her head. "So you started in 2010?" Again Syl nodded. Grix smiled softly. "You'll be safe now. Zack takes care of the girls that go into heat." Syl's head raised quickly at this, questioing Grix again with her eyes as to what she meant by that. "He either literally helps, he sends you to someone like Van or me to help you keep from doing anything... that kind of stuff. We're trying to figure out what else we can do but we don't have too many answers yet." Syl dropped her gaze to the floor once again. 

Grix didn't let the silence hang for very long. "Are you still bleeding, Syl?" she asked. "It's okay that you are, I just need to know how long and if you still are." Syl shrugged, honestly not sure if the blood she could feel was old or new. Grix nodded. "Can we have you go into the bathroom and check for me?" she asked. Syl looked up into Grix's soft brown eyes and then slid off the counter. She went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. A few moments later, she emerged again, hanging in the doorway. She nodded. 

Grix took a deep breath, adding another checkmark to her mental list. "How long has it been since you've had a seizure, Syl?" She shrugged. "Do you need some trypto?" Grix asked next. Syl looked at her blankly and Grix smiled. "Tryptophan. It's in milk and turkey, and it's the best stuff that we have to treat seizures. It doesn't stop them, but it curbs them pretty quickly. Do you want some?" Syl nodded and Grix reached into the bag she'd brought and pulled out a bottle of pills. She shook a couple into her hand and held them out to Syl with the glass of milk she'd poured earlier. Syl downed them and took a seat in one of Zack's chairs. 

Grix smiled gently at her. "I'm going to need to take a look at you," she said, and Syl's entire body tense. "Hey," Grix said, walking over and crouching in front of Syl. "You're bleeding. I have to make sure you're okay." 

Syl swallowed and looked at the floor. "I'll be fine." 

"Honestly I think that's probably true," Grix said after a moment of gazing at her sister. Gingerly she reached out and covered Syl's hand with her own; meeting no resistance, she tightened her fingers around Syl's. "But I'm here to help. It's up to you, but if you let me then maybe I can make it not hurt so much. Okay?" 

They locked eyes for a long moment and then Syl was crying, though she hadn't even felt the tears building. Grix put her arms around her sister and held her close. "Shh," she whispered, holding her tightly. "It's going to be okay now, shh." It took a few minutes for Syl to calm down, and then she allowed Grix into the bathroom with her to examine her. She gave her something to keep the blood off her clothes and handed her some pain medication. "Take two of these and call me in the morning," she said with a grin. Syl looked at her blankly so she shrugged, still smiling. "Movie cliche." Then she went back to her bag in the other room and pulled out a paper bag. She pulled out another small package and handed it to Syl. "Here, take one of these too," she said, and smiled at Syl. She downed the pill and held the package back out to Grix. "Keep it," she said. "Take the other one in two weeks." 

Syl nodded and then returned to her seat, watching as Grix crossed the room to the bed, stripping it and placing the sheets, with Syl's towel, into a garbage bag for disposal. She rifled through Zack's things to find a fresh change of linen and made the bed again. "Tired?" she asked Syl, who nodded, the bed already looking very inviting. "Zack and Van will be back soon," she said. "But you can sleep for as long as you want." She pulled back the blanket for Syl. "Anyway, I was going to prescribe lots of rest and to keep off your feet anyway." She grinned. "So go ahead, I'll amuse myself by taking out all the clips in Zack's guns and hiding them around the room." Syl smiled a little and then climbed into the bed. She pulled the blanket tightly around herself and brought her knees up to her chest, closing her eyes. 

* * *

Most of the lights were off when Syl opened her eyes, save for one in the corner at the table where Zack was busy packing up everything in the apartment and wiping it down as he went. Van was nearby doing the same, and Grix was sprawled on the floor fast asleep. Syl watched Zack scowl down at one of his handguns. "Where the fuck is my clip?" 

Van glanced over at him. "Beats the hell out of me," she said with a shrug, going back to what she was doing. Syl saw one of Grix's eyes open momentarily as Zack moved to another gun. He studied it and then dropped it to the table, turning toward Grix. He reached out his foot and nudged her in the ribs. 

Both her eyes opened this time and she smiled up at him innocently. "What?" she asked with a yawn. "Are we going now?" 

"Where'd you put them?" he asked. 

"Put what?" she asked, sitting up. "Your marbles? You've lost your marbles, Zack? How sad," she said, a look of genuine concern in her eyes. 

Zack looked pissed but Syl couldn't suppress a giggle. She swallowed it almost immediately though, afraid he'd turn his anger on her, her smile fading. The other three X5s glanced in her direction. "Hey Zack," Grix asked, taking his attention away from Syl's obvious fear. "Want to see a magic trick?" 

"Will it get me my clips?" he asked flatly. 

Grix rolled her eyes. "Have you ever celebrated Easter, Zack?" 

"Grix," Van warned. 

"Bear with me," she said, holding up a hand to both her COs. "So this Easter thing, some spiritual hoo-hah... but the real shit behind it is that kids get candy. And there's like this bunny dude-" 

"Grix," Zack growled. 

She laughed. "Not done yet!" she protested. "Anyway, the bunny dude. He goes around to all these different houses and hides eggs. I am the clip bunny... and the magic trick-" She held her hand out. "Watch closely now." Syl watched curiously. "Now you see me," Grix continued, then blurred to the bathroom, barely missing Van's grab for her arm. She paused in the doorway. "Now you don't!" And the door closed behind her, the unmistakable click of the lock following a split-second later, her laughter only slightly muffled by the door. 

"Goddammit, Grix," Zack said. "We're on a time schedule here!" 

"Bah to your schedules!" Grix yelled back. 

"I'm all done here," Van said, zipping up her duffle bag. 

Zack nodded and finished putting his things away, then he turned to Syl. "Did you see where Grix put the clips?" he asked. Syl shook her head and Zack sighed heavily. "Alright," he said as Van crossed the room to the bathroom, picking the lock easily with a paperclip. 

"Zack, trypto," she said, leaning down over Grix's convulsing form. Syl watch Zack grab a bottle from his bag and toss it to Van, who helped Grix swallow a few pills. 

"We're moving out," Zack told Syl as he opened cupboards and drawers, retreiving the clips. "We'll get a couple of rooms at a motel." As he found his last clip, Van emerged from the bathroom with Grix, who looked a less cheerful but still had a small smile on her face. 

"Nice trick, huh?" she said weakly to Syl, who smiled back at her and nodded. Zack grabbed the duffles and Van grabbed anything else of any value, and they left the apartment. Syl and Grix followed, Syl going with Zack to his truck as Van and Grix headed toward a honey-coloured sedan parked nearby. 

"Meet you there," Van said with a wave over her shoulder to Zack as he and Syl got into the truck. Van pulled out first and Zack waited, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He glanced over at Syl. 

"Did you have fun with Grix?" he asked. Syl shrugged, playing with the knob on Zack's glove compartment. "So okay, we're getting two rooms, two beds to each. Who do you want to bunk with?" 

Syl frowned for a moment in thought. 

"Grix?" Zack asked; Syl smiled but shook her head. "Van?" he tried next, and her smile widened. "Okay," he said with a nod, pulling into the street and heading in a different direction than Van's car had gone. They drove in silence for a while before Zack spoke again. "Have you given any thought to what you want to do after this?" he asked. Syl shook her head immediately, shying back from him a little toward her door, not wanting to think about it at all. Zack took a deep breath and then reached over to her, touching her head gently, threading his fingers through her hair. Syl closed her eyes and relaxed a little, leaning into the touch. 

The drive to the motel didn't take long, and Syl spotted Van's car in the parking lot as they entered. Zack had a reservation under Michael Hanover, and they were checked in quickly. Zack led her to the rooms, connected side-by-side, and laid her stuff at the end of one of the twin beds in the room that would be hers and Van's. "I think they said they were going to order food," Zack told her. "Hungry?" Syl nodded and they went next door to where Van and Grix were digging into cartons of takeout Chinese. 

"Chopsticks?" Grix asked her siblings. "If you weren't so paranoid you would have gotten here before I ate all the rice, Zack," she said. She pushed a carton of sweet and sour chicken toward Syl and handed her a pair of chopsticks. "It's not the best, but it's pretty decent," she said with a smile. 

"Van, you'll be bunking with Syl tonight," Zack told her. 

Van pursed her lips and looked to Syl. "Can't wait," she said. "We'll have some riveting conversation, chiqueta, you and me." The comment was sarcastic but the way Van said it made it somehow affectionate, even friendly. Syl gave her a half-smile and ate her chicken quickly. 

Grix flopped onto the couch and clicked on the television. "This is what I'm talking about," she said with a grin, gesturing Syl over. She sat next to her sister and watched her flip channels. 

"I'm going to get provisions," Zack said to Van. "Check in with Tosh and Zane. Ben too if you wouldn't mind." At Van's nod, he left the motel room. 

Syl jumped as Grix's elbow nudged her ribs gently. "They're in the same place," she said. At Syl's blank look, she continued, "The COs. It means hell has officially frozen over." Grix was wearing a wide grin, and then she settled on a music station and danced in her seat to the fast songs. 

* * *

That night Syl awoke to voices, only slightly muffled through the thin motel walls. With her excellent hearing, she could make out every word. She and Grix had gone to bed hours ago in their respective rooms, but Zack and Van were still up next door, talking in soft voices near the bed where Grix laid asleep. The door joining the two motel rooms was slightly open, a slice of light filtering through and casting patterns on the wall opposite Syl. She pushed her blanket back silently, crossing the room to the door and hanging in the shadows, turning so she could get a view of her siblings. She could see Grix's sleeping form now, sprawled on the bed against the wall, one arm turned backwards and flung across the pillow, the other hanging slightly over the edge of the bed. Syl could hear her heavy breathing all the way from the door. 

"She's had a hard time," Zack was saying. 

Van nodded and then shrugged. "But that's nothing new." 

"This time it is," Zack insisted. 

"Because she's a girl?" Van asked. 

Zack gave her a hard look. "Did you hear Grix's report on what happened?" he growled. "Or mine for that matter?" 

"Realistically, Zack, I would expect all of our sisters to go through something like that at some point in their lives." 

Syl watched Zack's expression flicker onto a genuine look of disbelief. "Not if I have any say in it," he protested, sounding almost offended. 

Van shrugged. "Can't watch them all the time. They're scared little kids that go into heat. No one out here gets that, Zack, you know that. We only have two girls, there are still four out there we haven't found yet. Do you really think they all have steady understanding boyfriends to help them out? Or that they ever will?" 

"Shut up," Zack snapped, running a hand through his hair and stopping at his barcode, scratching at it absently. 

"Look," Van said, backing down a little. "We'll get Syl somewhere that's safe. I'm just saying, shit happens. We can lay down precautions all we want but these kids aren't all accounted for yet, and there's nothing we can do for the ones we haven't found." 

Zack scowled. "Then we have to move faster," he said, sitting down on the end of his bed. 

Van sighed. "Okay. Realistically, we've got Brin and Tinga, who we both know could blend in pretty well out here. And then Jondy and Max, who may or may not be together. Jondy looks like every fifth white kid in this country, and if Max is still with her they'll be looking out for one another. If not..." She shrugged, trailing off, then glanced back toward where Syl was still watching. Syl jumped backward away from the door, looking through the thinner crack between the hinges instead. Van reached a hand up and lowered her sunglasses slightly on her nose, then pushed them back up and turned to Zack. "I'm going to hit the sack," she said. Syl noiselessly withdrew from the door and climbed between the sheets, closing her eyes and feigning sleep. 

She heard Zack let out a long breath before he said, "Fine. We're getting up at dawn." If there was any reply from Van it wasn't voiced, and Syl waited as she heard her door open wider and then shut quietly. She sensed Van leaning against the doorframe for a few moments, then her sister pushed away from it and sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Hear anything good?" she asked. Syl remained completely quiet, her eyes closed, her body limp, her breathing regular. Van reached out and gave her a gentle nudge in the ribs. "I know you're awake." 

Syl opened her eyes and looked up at Van, not bothering to pretend to be sleepy. 

"Pleading the fifth, huh?" Van asked with a half-smile. Syl reached up and pulled Van's sunglasses off her face. "Hey," Van protested, but didn't reach for them. Syl traced the outlines of the lenses in her hands, running her fingers along the edges. "You don't have to be scared you know," Van told her, laying down on top of the blankets next to Syl, who shrugged and kept her eyes on Van's reflection in the glasses. 

There was a silence that was not at all uncomfortable; Syl moved a little closed to Van, so she could feel her warmth. 

"You think I could get those back sometime soon?" Van asked. Syl shook her head, and Van pursed her lips, flickering her eyes up in a half-roll. Syl smiled and pressed her fingers into Van's lips. Her sister tensed slightly, surprised, but relaxed almost immediately. "What, you think that's funny?" she asked. And to Syl's nod she repeated the expression without meaning to. "It's supposed to be tough." Syl gave her a doubtful look and she scowled. "How much did you hear?" she asked, changing the subject. 

Syl's smile faded and her body tensed. She dropped her eyes to the colour change from Van's maroon tank top to her rich brown skin to the peach bedspread and didn't answer the question, waiting for Van to get angry. She moved away again, shying from Van's disapproval. Van's hand touched against her head and she jumped, but her sister's fingers threaded through her hair gently, soothing out her fear. "Grix was listening in too, it's okay. It's part of your training to do that... I just want to know how much you heard." 

Syl shook her head, insisting on her innocence. 

Van chuckled. "I saw you listening. I'm not blind, even if the glasses make me seem that way." Caught in a lie, Syl glanced down at her hands and shrugged, not willing to admit she'd been listening. Van took a breath. "Look... if you don't think I understand what you've been through, you're wrong." Syl met her sister's eyes doubtfully, and Van tilted her head a little in acknowledgment. "Okay, so I don't really understand. But you know what I mean... it's not like I don't have sympathy or compassion or whatever the fuck it's called. I'm angry as hell about it and I'd give my life to make it so that never happened to you. I was just trying to make Zack see that there's a big chance you're not the only one of you girls who's been through this." 

Syl swallowed and looked at her hands, not wanting to think about any of the rest of her family experiencing anything like she had. She wanted them all to be safe. Glancing up at Van with a sudden though, she filled her eyes with concern. After a moment's confusion, Van chuckled and ruffled Syl's hair affectionately. "Not me," she said. "I found out about heat the same time Zack did, if you get my drift." Syl's eyes fell back to her hands, feeling uncomfortable, not wanting to think about her older brother and sister like that. Van's hand moved from her hair to stroke soothingly against her barcode. Van's hand was soft and cool, and Syl couldn't stop her eyes from closing. She heard Van's smile in her voice as she said, "You're like me. Touch the barcode and I'm out cold." Syl opened her eyes again and reached up to touch the back of Van's, but her sister pushed her hand away gently. "Hey," she said, not unkindly. "Take my word for it, it works, alright?" Syl smiled at her and nodded, cuddling into Van's chest instead. Van tensed, then let out a long breath and lowered her arms to encircle Syl's back gingerly. "Go to sleep already," she said, kissing the top of Syl's head. Syl closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep. 

* * *

Van was gone when Syl woke up to the loud sigh from Grix as she flopped onto the bed, startling Syl awake. "Zack is so fucking annoying," she said. Syl gave her a questioning look and she explained, "He won't let me sleep in. He insisted on getting up at dawn and working out. And he wanted me to fall in." She made a face. "So I dragged Van over and made her spar with him. Feel free to go back to sleep, I'm not going to be getting up for another couple of hours." Syl looked past her little sister to the clock on the bedside table- 6:43am. She pulled the pillow over her head and closed her eyes. "Here here," Grix said, following suit. She grinned at Syl under their pillows and Syl smiled back. She yawned and sat up, stretching. Grix sat up as well. "You're kidding me," she said. "You're actually going to get up? Are you crazy?" Syl put her feet over the side of the bed and Grix grabbed her arm. "Don't let them win," she said indignantly. "Then they'll think they're justified and I'll have to get up and I'm so tired. Please Syl." She made a pitiful expression, her eyes big and pleading, and Syl hesitated. "Please Sylvie?" she asked. Syl sat back down and Grix, triumphant, laid down again, closing her eyes. Syl waited until her sister was asleep and then got out of bed and went next door to the other room. Zack and Van were sparring, both of them with intensity in their eyes; Syl hung by the wall and watched for a bit, and when Van finally threw Zack to the floor and had him pinned, she stood up and started back toward the other room. 

"Syl," Zack called her back as Van let him up, scooping up her sunglasses at the same time and putting them back on. "It's all right, we're done." 

"I'll get Grix," Van said, heading for the bedroom. Syl grabbed her arm as she passed and shook her head. "What, did she give you the 'I'm a lazy punk-ass who doesn't want to get up' speech too?" Even through her sunglasses somehow Syl knew she was rolling her eyes. Then she disappeared into the other room, and Syl went to Zack. 

"Hungry?" he asked, indicating a pot of something bubbling on the stove. Syl nodded and found a bowl, helping herself to some of the chili. She ate it quietly, watching as Van hauled Grix back into the room, still wrapped in the sheets, clinging to them defiantly. 

"Van!" she yelled, drawing the vowel out whiningly as Van deposited her on the floor with a thump. 

"There," she said with a smile. "Now we're all up." As Grix stood up and started heading for the bathroom Van reached out and closed her hand over the girl's head, turning her around. "Eat." 

"Sleep," Grix answered. 

"Eat," Van repeated, lowering her glasses a little. Grix let out a dramatic sigh and crossed the kitchen to where Syl was sitting. "Traitor," she whispered as she passed. For a moment Syl was hurt, then she realized it was a joke and smiled. Grix brightened when she saw the pot of hot chili, and got herself a bowl. 

"Where's the tobasco sauce?" she asked. 

"Don't have any," Zack answered. 

Grix set her bowl down next to Syl's loudly. "Then drive your ass to the store and get me some, or I'm taking my ass right back to bed." 

"Grix," Van said. "Eat." 

"I can't eat chili without tobasco sauce," she protested. "It's a crime-" 

"Knock it off," Zack warned. 

"Fine. Give me the car keys." 

"No," Zack answered. "Eat your food. We're moving out in an hour." 

Grix sat down next to Syl and crossed her arms over her chest. "Where are we going now?" 

"You're going home," Van answered as Grix turned and dug through the cupboards for something different to eat. 

"So soon?" she asked. "But I was having such a fun family reunion." 

"This isn't a reunion," Zack said. "It's an emergency and now it's done so you're going back to New Orleans." 

"At least they have tabasco sauce there," she muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear. "And no bossy older siblings either." 

"Grix," Van warned, her voice clear that this was the last time she was going to say it. Grix sighed and poured herself some cereal from a box in the cupboard, drowning it in milk. 

She fell into the chair next to Syl and smiled sideways at her. "They usually crack when I get that annoying," she whispered. "Must be cause I'm out-numbered." Syl smiled back at her as she felt the chili burn her tongue.   



	3. Chapter 2

When her daughter turned five, Syl was almost twenty. She didn't know the child's name or where she lived, and she'd never set eyes on the baby. She only knew that she was a little girl who Zack dutifully watched over at Syl's own request and who turned five years old today. Syl was between jobs at the moment, had been for two weeks, and now she wished that she had something to do rather than sit around and think. But her boyfriend was away on business and wouldn't be back for at least another day, and Zack hadn't come around for about six weeks. He'd been on his way to visit Tinga because her husband had gone to Phoenix with their son and he always timed his visits for those occasions. As for the others, it was anyone's guess where they might be. 

Syl thought about her daughter a lot- she didn't mean to most of the time, it usually just happened on its own. She'd be doing something, and then there the child would be, creeping into her mind. She drew the line at naming her in her head, though, knowing the child had her own name, identity, blissfully ignorant existence. Not like Case, Tinga's son. Zack had confided to Syl just last month that the two and a half-year-old had been exhibiting signs of enhanced motor functions and memory, something that worried Zack- and Tinga- to no end. Sometimes Syl wished she could go and see Tinga and Case, but she knew that it would likely only depress her, and cause her to wonder what it would be like to be raising her daughter instead of some adoptive family. 

She didn't resent Zack for it; he'd been right, it was the best thing for her and the child to give her baby up. Syl had only been thirteen years old when the baby was conceived, barely fourteen when she was born. Even with Zack's help, in her emotional state at the time she never would have been able to handle a baby. The silent mantra in her head the whole time she'd been pregnant was _Please God, whoever or whatever you are, if you exist, make it a boy._

Then the doctor had taken the screaming bundle from the room at her request, Zack had looked down at her and said, "A little girl." Syl hated that she'd brought a girl into the world, a girl who would be abused, defiled, molested by the dirty fingers of some man just as she had. If it had been a boy, a son, she probably could have let it go, forgotten about him, moved on. But a daughter... a daughter made her heart quicken with fear every time she thought of it. Was she being mistreated? Was there someone who was trying to hurt her? Was she okay? Was she happy? Did she cry at night? So Zack watched over her daughter, assured her everything was alright, even took pictures for her that she never looked at. 

Zack: her salvation. How could you live with someone for the first ten years of your life, then three more years later on, and not bond? He was the only one who knew about her daughter or how she came about because he'd been there, and he helped her through everything. She honestly didn't think she'd be alive if it hadn't been for Zack; she owed him her life a thousand times over. He saved her from her foster uncle, helped her through her pregnancy, giving her baby up, the aftermath of what that all meant. He'd sat with her through depression, morning sickness, labour, regressive flashbacks to the abuse she'd gone through, all of it. She had only just moved out on her own two years before. 

Sometimes Syl thought he even understood why she couldn't let any of it go, why she couldn't just suck it up like the soldier she was supposed to be. But the point was he'd stayed with her even if he didn't understand. They didn't even need to really speak anymore; after spending so much time together they could read each other's thoughts like open books. Zack was the only man she felt completely at ease around, the only one she had a healthy relationship with- the abuse she'd suffered as a child at the hands of her foster uncle had pretty much screwed her up for any future relationships, romantic or otherwise. If she managed to get past her terror of commitment and sex at all, her boyfriends almost always turned out to be just as abusive as her foster uncle, though usually in a different way. 

Even her current one, Steve, liked to smack her around a lot, and Syl really didn't know why she didn't fight. She never did. A stranger on the street could look at her wrong and she'd kick his ass, but someone close to her, someone she'd consciously decided to be with, that was different. It was her fault Steve hit her- she'd decided to be with him. It had been her choice, her mistake, so she'd have to live with it. It never really occurred to her that she didn't have to live with it at all, that it didn't have to take Zack noticing a bruise on her face and almost killing whatever man she was with to get away. Over and over she thought, _I've made the choice to be in this relationship._ She never once added, _And I can choose to end it._ She never even thought it. 

Today, the day her daughter turned five, was the second day of Syl's heat cycle, and she could already tell it was going to be a bad one. If only Steve was around, but he was working out of town until at least tomorrow and there was no way to get hold of him. Even if she did, he'd never come back for just no reason, and she couldn't tell him about her heat cycles. She paced her apartment, doing sit-ups, the only thing that really ever helped besides running. She dreaded night, when the temperature would drop and her skin would get even hotter as a result, and she would feel she'd have to run through the streets screaming for sex before she killed herself. She dreaded having to find some stranger, bringing him home, having to see him in the morning. She hated it, always did, hated the vulnerability of it, how it made her act, the shame that came in the morning that did not just have to do with her abuse. She hated all of it, hated Manticore. She wondered how her other sisters handled this, knew only of Tinga, married. _It must be nice to have someone to relieve her heat when she goes into it._ Steve's job as a trucker had him home only sporadically, and this was the second time he hadn't been around for her when she really needed him. 

It was just before midnight when Syl truly couldn't stand it anymore. She grabbed her jacket, pulled on her shoes, and went running down the stairs of her apartment building, thankfully not seeing anyone. Then she tied her hair back and started jogging down the darkened street, the air cold against her heated skin. She passed bowling alleys and 7-11s, schools and churches, before entering the bar district. There were always guys hanging around here, and one of them would surely come home with her. She knew she must have looked a mess, sweaty, the blonde hair loosened from her elastic hanging in wet clumps by her face. But the pheromones she was putting out would make any guy she got within a foot of agree to pretty much anything. 

She saw one, a young man about nineteen or twenty, just leaving the bar with a few of his friends. They parted ways and he started walking down the street alone; Syl prowled after him silently, like he was her prey, finally jogging up beside him. He glanced over at her, started to smile a greeting, then his eyes widened and his body responded to her primally though she knew his mind didn't understand why. She stopped running and grabbed his face in her hands, kissing him. His arms wrapped around her, turning her and pushing her up against the building they'd stopped in front of. She sighed against his lips as his hands came up under her shirt and started caressing her hot skin. He pulled back. 

"Jamal," he said breathlessly, his dark eyes wide. She smiled. 

"Syl," she answered hastily, and then grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down for another kiss, turning them so he was now the one pressed up against the wall. She had to physically stop herself from undressing him right there. 

"Is your place near here?" she breathed into his ear before biting it gently. He groaned and nodded, his eyes closed as his hands roved over her. "Lead me," she managed to gasp out. He grabbed her hand and they took off at a run, stopping every few moments to kiss each other passionately before he dragged her on again. 

"Almost there," he said as they rounded a bend; suddenly she felt herself smack against Jamal as he ran straight into another person running from the other direction. 

"Sorry," Jamal muttered, taking Syl's hand and leading her away. Syl felt her eyes drift to the muscled body of the man they'd run into and she had to force her gaze away as he tensed beside her, responding to her pheromones just as Jamal was. They continued hurrying toward the apartment but Syl heard the other man fall into step behind them. She halted, tugging on Jamal's arm; he turned and glared at the man. 

"What's your problem?" he asked in almost a growl. 

"Let go," the other man said; Syl detached herself from Jamal and leaned against the building they'd stopped at. 

"Now boys," she said. "Don't fight." Jamal took her hand again and continued down the street; Syl reached over and kissed him as they walked, causing him to stumble slightly but not let go. Their tongues tangled as their hands entwined in each other's hair, his lips hot and needy against her skin. Suddenly he was hauled violently away from her embrace, leaving her cold and unsatisfied. She saw the other man throw him to the sidewalk, but he got up angrily almost right away. Syl watched, fascinated, enjoying the primal territorial display. She watched the two men fight, and was pleased to see the aggressor win, a dangerous, sexy man with dark eyes and hair. Jamal stood there for a moment as this new man approached her, watched as he leaned down and breathed in her scent before kissing her, hot and needy. Jamal swore in a confused, aroused voice and then stalked away. Syl could care less as she felt the new man's hands run over the bare skin of her arms and face. 

"Syl," he breathed into her lips. "So you're what I was smelling. I've been running around for hours." She pulled back from him, confusion overtaking her desire for a moment. How did he know her name? She gazed at him for a moment through the darkness, her mind clouded by hormones and the transformation he'd gone through since last she'd seen him. Finally she registered who he was, and a slow smile, both loving and primal, spread over her face. 

"Krit," she purred as his arms crept around her back, pulling her closer. It didn't matter that before this moment he was her brother, and maybe would be again tomorrow; it didn't matter. 

"Yeah," he answered in a growl, kissing her again. "What are the odds?" It was true; she hadn't seen him in over five years and she'd had no idea he was living here. 

"I don't care," she whispered. "Take me home." 

"It's a long way," he rumbled out. "I smelled you two miles off. We'd better go to your place." 

"Whatever," she breathed, taking his hand in hers and leading him away. "Let's just go already." She pulled him quickly down the darkened street. Nothing mattered but the fact that he was there, his skin warm against hers, and that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, and she couldn't have stopped it if she'd tried. 

  
Her apartment seemed farther away than usual, but they finally arrived; Syl tried to stop herself from leaving a trail of clothes down the hallway, and managed to make it inside before she started pulling off his shirt. Hers quickly dropped to the floor, her bra soon joining it as well as both their jeans. Then Krit nudged her toward her bedroom, where they fell onto her king-sized bed, their hands roving everywhere. 

"Who else..." Krit asked between kisses. "Lives... here?" She knew he could smell the other scent on the sheets, a man's scent. Syl was very impressed that he could even get the question out. 

"My... boyfriend... Steve," she told him, amazed she could even form the words. "He's away... on... business until- oh!" Krit's hand was against her hot skin, caressing, stroking. She sank into the mattress, into his arms, whimpering and twisting against him as his lips sought hers again. 

"Syl," he breathed as she tugged at his boxers, her name sliding off his lips like honey. The heat was quickly taking over and there was no more time for foreplay; she guided him against her, drew him completely inside. They both hissed out moans and he nibbled at her neck for a moment before he began moving. 

"Oh, God," she whispered, touching his back lightly, too exhausted to do anything but lie there and let him take over, the stress of trying to hold everything in before this moment finally taking its toll. She clutched his shoulders, found his lips with hers and ran her hands through his hair. "Oh," she breathed out. "Oh, Krit, oh, God." Then she couldn't form words anymore, her breath coming out in little gasps as her nails raked his back, her eyes fluttering closed because suddenly the darkness of her bedroom was too bright. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, drawing blood, and he groaned and increased his tempo, the pain increasing his pleasure. He kissed her temple, the soft spot behind her ear, then seized the area where her neck met her shoulders between his teeth and bit down. The metallic warmth of her blood pooled on his tongue; she cried out in painful pleasure and he tightened her legs around him. 

"Syl," he breathed, increasing his speed much more than an average human ever could. "Oh, Syl, I'm so glad I ran into you." She laughed a little, found his lips with her own, kissed him hotly, her tongue warring with his, a mini-battle in their mouths. 

"I love you," she purred, feeling his pace quicken even further. It wasn't just the passion talking; she had never really meant the words as she did now, despite the fact that she hadn't even seen him in almost six years. But of course she loved him. Of course it hadn't changed in five and a half years, and of course it wouldn't change in ten, twenty, fifty years. Of course. She felt his hands find hers and he held onto her tightly. 

"I love you," he growled back. "I love you so much." 

"Oh," she cried as he repositioned himself for the final stage, reaching a hand down to caress her hot skin like silk as he took them higher. She felt her head loll back on the bed, the pleasure almost too much as it exploded around her, the release ebbing against her in waves, her heat satisfied for the moment and peaceful fulfilment permeating all her senses. 

"Oh, God," Krit was whispering against her hair. "God, Syl. Oh." He shuddered and then she pushed her hips against his slowly a few more times, drawing out both their pleasure, eliciting little gasps from his lips before finally collapsing back into the mattress. He turned to the side, holding her tightly against him in his arms as he too relaxed. Tears began falling from her eyes at the beauty that for once in her life she didn't feel guilty or anxious or ashamed of her heat and what she'd just done. Krit felt the moisture against his shoulder and lifted her face so he could look at her, concern entering his dark eyes. 

"Syl?" he asked, bemused. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" She smiled, kissed him lightly. 

"No," she said. "It was perfect. Amazing." She'd certainly never done _that_ with him before, but oddly she didn't feel uncomfortable or shy. This was _Krit._ There was no reason to hide from him: he knew her better than most other people combined. 

"Then what's wrong?" he asked gently. 

"Nothing, I'm just happy," she told him, her eyes fluttering as she again laid her head on his bare chest. She was suddenly very exhausted, and knew she would need to sleep since they would undoubtedly wake again in a half hour to repeat the entire process. 

"You cry when you're happy?" he asked through a yawn, one hand stroking slowly up and down her back and the other threading through her blonde hair gently. 

"Yes," she whispered. "And now I'm going to sleep." 

"Okay," he said softly back, kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, Syl." 

"Goodnight, Krit," she whispered. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," he whispered into her hair just before she drifted off to sleep. She felt him caressing her slowly, lovingly, his soft hands, his breath warm against her face. 

  
Syl found herself being jerked awake as a large hand grabbed her neck, hauling her off the bed and slamming her against a nearby wall. Another hand came up and smacked her across the face. She took it without a word or a cry for help to Krit, who was still sleeping soundly on the bed a few feet away. 

"I come home from two day's work and _this_ is what I find?" the man yelled; Steve, her boyfriend. Syl let him smack her again. "You slut! You whore! I'll teach you to-" His words suddenly choked off as he was thrown across the room and into the glass-doored bookshelf, shattering it and bloodying his back where shards of glass impaled him. A now fully-awake Krit turned from his fallen form, his entire body taut with anger, and raised a hand to touch the bruise forming on Syl's cheek. She winced but smiled weakly at him, then glanced over as Steve got painfully to his feet. Krit turned and stared him down icily, making it clear what his intent would be if the guy even _thought_ about approaching her again. 

But intelligence had never been anything Syl would have attributed to Steve; he ran at them, yelling, throwing a punch that Krit dodged easily. He looked momentarily surprised, but before he could try again Krit kicked him hard in the gut and crushed his nose with his fist; blood poured down Steve's face. He got shakily to his feet, stared at Krit, looked like he wanted to try again but didn't dare to. He glanced at Syl, glared at her. 

"You want her?" Steve yelled, his pride hurt as well as his body, slight fear in his voice as he looked again at Krit. "Fine, take the whore!" He threw a disgusted look in Syl's direction. "She won't even give head." At that Krit clenched his fists dangerously and Steve took a subconscious step back before turning to leave the apartment. "I'll be back for my stuff!" he yelled, slamming the door behind him. Krit turned back to Syl slowly, touched her bruised face again. 

"I'm fine," she said; her calm voice seemed to upset Krit. 

"Why would you let him do that?" he asked softly. She looked away, shrugged. "We're leaving," Krit said firmly. Syl looked at him. 

"No," she said. "I'm staying here." 

"What?" Krit's mouth fell open, huge. He looked like a fish. "Why?" 

"Steve loves me," Syl said stubbornly. "You'd be angry, too, if your girlfriend-" 

"I don't care what a woman does, I would never hit her," Krit said quietly. And there it was, right there, she had only to grab onto it. There was the proof that not everyone was like Steve, like those who came before him, like her foster uncle. There were Zacks and Krits in the world as well; there were men who knew how to treat their girlfriends right, who solved things by talking and not blows. It was all right there in Krit's simple, sincere, words- all she had to do was reach out, take his hand, and leave. 

But she didn't; maybe she couldn't. Maybe her ability to see what was right in front of her had been taken from her a long time before, at the same time as her innocence had disappeared perhaps. Could one even have innocence, growing up in Manticore? She didn't know. 

"I love you," she told Krit, kissing him. "But you have to leave. Steve and I will work it out." 

"Do you love him?" he asked softly. 

"No," Syl said. "But it's okay." 

"Come home with me." 

"No." She nudged him toward his clothes and he pulled them on slowly. "No, I'm not going to do that. But next time I'm in heat..." She flushed slightly. "That was the best cycle I've ever had, Krit. I'd like to do it again sometime." 

"Okay," he said, then swallowed hard, his eyebrows knitting together. "If I phone Zack will you leave? Will you let him find you a new home?" He was staring at her, fear and hopelessness written all over his face. She hesitated. 

"He's at Tinga's," Syl said. "Last I heard, anyway." 

"I have the number," Krit told her, surprising her. 

"Imagine that," she said as he crossed the room to the phone, dialled a number from memory. 

"Tinga," he said. "It's Krit. You too. Yeah, I thought so. Can I talk to him? Thanks." There was a pause in which Krit smiled at Syl tensely. "Hey, Zack. I need you to come to Syl's. What am I- Oh... well, she was in heat and- Yes, I know. Well I'm sorry. You know how hard it is to- Yes. Yes. Okay. Because she needs you. Her boyfriend's smacking her around pretty good and- Wait, calm down! It's okay _now,_ I threw him out. Yeah. Yeah, I thought you would. Okay, I'll see you. Bye." 

"He's coming?" Syl asked after he hung up. 

"Yeah, he said he'll be here in three hours," Krit said. Syl's brows lifted in surprise. 

"Tinga lives eight hours away." 

"I know," he said as she smiled and turned around to search in the closet for something to wear. She heard his sharp intake of breath and a moment later his hands were against her back, touching the skin just below her shoulder blade. "Did I do that?" 

"What?" she asked, shivering slightly as his fingers travelled down her back. 

"There's a huge bruise from your shoulder to your hip, Syl." 

"Oh, don't worry, it wasn't you," she assured him. "That's old." Krit brought his hands up firm against her shoulders, turned her to look at him. 

"I'm staying here until Zack comes," he said. After a moment Syl nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing with that determined look in his eyes. Satisfied, Krit folded her into his arms with an expression filled with both rage and fear.   



	4. Chapter 3

After they'd both showered Krit handed Syl a mug of coffee and sat down beside her on the sofa, sipping his own. She smiled over at him, his tense face, and sighed into her cup. 

"What's wrong, baby brother?" she asked, yawning. "Didn't sleep well?" she teased. He was staring at her with a strangely pained expression on his face. "What?" 

"You're still calling me that?" he asked softly. "After last night?" Her smile faltered. 

"Oh," she managed. "I didn't even realize-" She flushed slightly, swallowed. "I don't-" She glanced away. "Sorry, Krit." 

"It's okay," he assured her, but they sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before it was broken by the sound of the front door opening. Krit stood up. 

"Stay here," he said, preparing himself for another fight, heading toward the door. Syl glared, wanted to say _I can take care of myself,_ but she didn't have much evidence to back that up so she remained silent. Zack appeared in the room almost immediately, frowning at Krit before allowing his little brother to hug him. 

"How are you?" Zack asked him heavily, obviously resigning himself to the fact that what was done was done. 

"Good," Krit answered, turning away. Zack hung back in the doorway. 

"Are you still in heat?" he asked cautiously. Syl smirked over at him. 

"If I was, Krit would be attacking you right now," she said. After a moment Zack accepted that, came inside. He stopped in front of her as she stood up and visibly cringed at the bruises Steve had inflicted on her face. He reached his hand out without touching her and when she didn't protest he pulled her into his arms in a greeting. Some days she couldn't stand to have any man hug her, even a brother, but today she was fine. 

"Syl," he said softly once he'd released her, raising a hand to her cheek. 

"It's fine," she said, turning away from him. He worried enough about her, she didn't want him to have more reason to do so. He caught her hand. 

"Let me see," he said firmly; she reluctantly faced him, allowed him to touch the darkened patches of skin lightly with his fingers. "What else?" he asked. 

"Nothing. Just a big bruise on my back. Nothing else, really." She started to pull away from him but he reached out to stop her, his hand against her side; she cringed suddenly as pain hit her but tried to hide it. 

"What's that?" Zack asked immediately, picking up on her concealed signals. He knew her too well to be fooled. 

"It's nothing," she said again. "Really." Zack sighed. 

"Lift up your shirt," he ordered. She could have made a joke about that, wanted to, but her sense of humour had left her suddenly so she just obeyed, pushing her breasts up as she lifted it. Zack's hands were warm against her sides, medical in their movements and strangely not at all sexual though one would have expected it from a man so incredibly masculine. His fingers stopped against her left side, applied slight pressure. She sucked her breath in as pain stabbed through her, one of her hands grabbing his. 

"There?" he asked, moving his hand under hers more lightly, down to the next rib. More pain; another, pain again. He finally removed his hand and sighed again. 

"Three broken ribs," he said. "That's not nothing, Syl." 

"Well maybe if you hadn't pushed on them they wouldn't hurt so much," she muttered, dropping her shirt and crossing her arms over her chest. "Besides, it's been like that for a week or so. I forgot about it." Zack ran a hand through his hair. 

"Why didn't you call me?" 

"You ask me that every time." 

"And you've never given me a satisfactory answer!" 

"Don't yell at me!" 

"This has happened before?" Krit spoke up; Syl and Zack both jumped, having forgotten he was in the room. 

"Don't worry about me," she said stubbornly. 

"Zack," he said. "I want Syl to come and live with me." 

"No, Krit," she hissed. 

"Why not?" he asked; Zack was watching them silently. 

"I haven't seen you in-" 

"As if that makes a difference," he cut her off. He gestured at the bedroom. _"That's_ what makes a difference, Syl." She glared at him. 

"We couldn't control ourselves." She'd hurt him, but she hadn't meant to. 

"You said you loved me." 

"I do!" 

"The same way you love Zack?" he asked; she hesitated. 

"No..." 

"Well, then?" 

"I can't deal with this today," she told him softly. 

"Why the hell not?" Krit countered, annoyed. Syl shook her head silently. He had such a temper. Strange that he was the only one like that she could stay away from, that she wouldn't go with the one person with a temper who actually _wouldn't_ hurt her. 

"Zack, you know what day this is," she whispered. 

"What day is it?" Krit asked suspiciously, looking from Zack to Syl. 

"Give us a minute," Zack said, and he took Syl's hand, leading her into the bedroom, leaving an annoyed Krit behind in the living room. Zack sat down with Syl on her bed, obviously trying to ignore the smell of her and Krit all over it. "I know what today is," he said softly. "I was going to come down tonight to stay with you. How are you doing?" 

"They're rich, right?" she asked softly, playing with the bedspread. 

"Yeah," he said. She nodded. 

"So she'll have good presents." 

"You want to see the pictures I took last month? I brought them." 

"Nope." 

"Okay." 

"How's Tinga?" 

"She's good," Zack said; Syl gazed at him. 

"Don't lie to me. We know each other too well for that now." 

"She's worried about Case." 

"And so are you," she said, nodding. 

"He certainly isn't a regular toddler," Zack said dryly, the stress obvious in his voice. 

"Do you think that's normal?" she asked softly. "Or do you think it's just him?" 

"No, Case isn't normal," Zack said firmly. "Don't worry. She isn't showing any signs of what she is." He never said 'your daughter,' always just 'she' or 'her.' Syl couldn't stand anything else. 

"What she is," she repeated, then added under her breath, "What, half freak?" But she knew that wasn't what he'd meant. 

"Syl," Zack said, touching her shoulder. There was a long silence before he added softly, "I think you should go with Krit." She stared at him. 

_"What?"_ His face said he wasn't kidding. "But you don't like any of us to even visit each other!" 

"I know." He was gazing at her, his weary blue eyes full of worry and sadness. It made her feel guilty, knowing she'd caused such stress. "I want you to be happy," he said. "I want you to be safe. I can't watch over you all the time." 

"I'm doing fine," she said, pulling away from him and walking to the window. "I'm independent now, I don't need him." 

"Yeah, you're doing a great job of it, Syl," Zack said sarcastically, then cringed as he saw the pain flash through her eyes. 

"I'm trying," she whispered. He stood and walked over to her, stopped beside her. 

"I know," he said. "But maybe it was good that Krit showed up now. He loves you, six years doesn't change that. And you love him. He's not going to hurt you. Isn't that enough? Even if you don't love him like that, living with him must be better than this." He waved a hand around the room as though to indicate her entire failed life, every tragic romance. She tensed and turned her head away. 

"I accidentally called him 'baby brother,' Zack, you know, like I would have before?" She shook her head at herself, laughed without humour. "I actually called him that after _this."_ She gestured at the bed behind them and Zack sighed. His hand was gentle against her face. 

"Don't obsess over that," he said. "You can't define us by their rules, Syl. We don't fit into their neat little categories." 

"So what are you saying, that he isn't my brother, or that he is but it's okay to have sex with him anyway?" Her words were bitter. 

"It's not that simple," Zack said stubbornly, dropping his hand. Syl shrugged. 

"Maybe not. But it's still confusing." She looked at him. "You really think I should just run off with him? I haven't seen him since before-" She stopped, then forced herself to go on. "Before _her."_

"I know," Zack said gently. "But it would be better than this." He dropped his voice. "I know it wouldn't be as easy." Syl looked at him sharply. 

"What, you think getting beaten is easy, Zack?" She regretted the question immediately. She'd said it herself: they knew each other too well to lie. 

"Of course it is," he read the thoughts she didn't want him to see. "You always fall into this pattern. I don't like that it's easier for you, but it is." 

"Stop it, Zack," she whispered. 

"Look, I just want you to be safe," he said again. "One day I might not be here to save you." 

"What?" She stared at him with wide eyes. "What are you talking about?" 

"Nothing," Zack assured her quickly, put a calming hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean anything by it." She studied his face, searched for a lie, found none. 

"Don't scare me," she said, then brightened a little as an idea struck. "I could live with you again. It would be like old times." 

"You hated living with me." 

"No, I hated myself," she corrected. "I just happened to be with you at the time." Zack accepted that but shook his head at her request. 

"You can't live with me again, Syl. The others suffered too much from it before." That stung. 

"I didn't know I was such an inconvenience," she said softly. He ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's not what I meant. I happened to love having you around." Syl smiled. She happened to love that they had already gotten over his tendency to dance around his emotions years ago. "Sure," he continued. "It took some getting used to... but you were great company, Syl." 

"Really?" she asked hopefully; for some reason the tone of her voice depressed him. 

"Really," he answered firmly. Then Syl was crying for reasons he knew she didn't really understand. Zack wasn't surprised; he touched her shoulder, pulled her into his arms. 

"I should have ordered you to have an abortion," he whispered into her hair, gentle. He hadn't said that in such a long time, and she didn't want to hear it anymore than she had before. But he went on, "Then maybe-" 

"Don't," Syl hissed, twisting away from him. "I don't regret it, Zack, so stop it." 

"But maybe you could have moved on then," he persisted. "Maybe you wouldn't be so-" He stopped. 

"What, maybe I wouldn't be so me?" 

"That's _not_ what I meant." 

"Stop it," she bit out again. "It's _done._ You'd be the first to tell me that." Zack blinked. 

"You're right," he said, gathering himself. She softened, knowing she'd always been one of his weak spots. He got the conversation back on track. "What do you want to do, then?" 

"I want to go away from here. I don't like Colorado anymore." 

"Where do you want to go?" he asked heavily. Obviously that hadn't been the answer he'd wanted to hear. 

"Ocean," she said. "Beaches." 

"California," he suggested. Syl smiled. 

"Yeah." 

"You're sure?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okay," he said. "I'll set you up with a place right away." She turned, laid her head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her protectively. 

"Thanks, Zack." 

"No need," he told her softly. She smiled into him, his warmth, the safety of his arms. Everything disappeared when she was with Zack: all her problems, all her insecurities, all her fears. They all just floated away. In his arms the people who hurt her were insignificant and there was no more pain and nothing meant anything anymore.   



	5. Chapter 4

_"Are you sure you want me here?" Zack asked gently, taking her hand. "I don't have to be here if it makes you uncomfortable." _

"No, Zack," she managed to gasp out, gritting her teeth. "Please. Please stay with me." 

"Okay," he said immediately. "Of course." Syl cried out as another wave of pain hit her, clutching his hand tighter as the nurses bustled around them. She felt one of his bones crack in her grip but she couldn't stop herself from crushing it, hearing one of his fingers snap next. Zack didn't even wince, he just held the hair off her face and let her squeeze. 

  
"Syl?" Zack called her out of her reverie, causing her to jump slightly. She glanced over at him, smiled a little. The road into Utah was hot and arid, but she didn't know if that was normal. 

"Sorry," she said. "Did you ask me something?" 

"No, I just wanted to know where you were." She smiled and shrugged, not answering him, knowing he wasn't really asking. "You'll like this place," he told her. "It's about a block from the beach." 

"Sounds good to me." _I'll have to buy a new bathing suit._

"You love to swim," he echoed her thoughts. 

"Yeah." She smiled at him. "You could hang out for a while. See the sights." 

"No," Zack said, shaking his head as he drove, disappointing her. "There's a situation in Idaho I have to take care of." 

"A situation?" she asked curiously; she saw him scowl slightly at the road. 

"I have to bail one of our not-so-discreet brothers out of trouble," he said; Syl smiled at the half-disdain, half-love that was his voice. 

"Zane?" she asked. 

"Who else?" he answered in a sigh; she smiled. Zack muttered, "You'd think he'd be good for once." 

"Give him a break, he's only eighteen." 

"I guess." 

"What are you now...?" she asked. "Twenty-two?" 

"Twenty-one still," he said. "I think." Syl nodded; none of them knew their birthdays, but Zack remembered each and every one of their arrivals in Manticore's nursery as infants, which was how Syl knew she would soon turn twenty. That was just one piece of the intricate part Zack played in all their lives, why they couldn't live without him, why he was the key to everything. 

  
_He liked to watch her sleep. Since she'd given up the baby she'd felt him a thousand times, hanging in her bedroom door in the middle of the night, just watching her. For a long time she didn't open her eyes, but finally one night she decided to sit up and look at him, and he just smiled. _

"Sorry," he said, and turned to leave. 

"It's okay," she called him back. "What are you doing? I haven't had a nightmare in months." It had been a long time since she'd relived the trauma she'd experienced in her dreams, Zack sitting up with her as she cried. Even thinking about it made her shiver. 

"You look peaceful," he said softly, leaning against the doorframe. "I like it when you look peaceful." She smiled at him and he reached for the doorhandle. "Goodnight, Syl," he said softly as he pulled it closed. 

"Goodnight, Zack." She snuggled down further into the mattress, put her hand over her stomach like she used to when she was pregnant; she thought about her daughter, stifled a sigh. She really hadn't been peaceful, just tired, but she let him believe what he wanted to because she at least approached peaceful when he smiled at her. 

  
Just like those nights of long ago, Zack was watching her sleep now. She could feel his eyes on her back from the doorway of her motel room bedroom, and she allowed her breathing to remain spaced and even as she woke up so he would think she was still sleeping. They'd stopped outside of Provo when she couldn't stop yawning anymore, which was sweet because she knew Zack was on a time crunch to get to Idaho. Finally she couldn't stand it anymore and rolled over, propping her head up on her hand. She started to smile at him, then caught the anguished expression on his face. Syl felt her heart quicken with fear as she got out of bed, throwing the covers to the floor, hurrying over to him, hoping it was just a trick of the light. It wasn't. 

"Zack, what's wrong?" she asked, stopping in front of him, afraid to touch him because he looked like he might break down or lash out at any second. 

"Sorry I woke you," he said. "I wasn't sure if I should." 

"Don't worry about that," she told him quickly. "What's wrong?" 

"I have to leave." 

"Leave," she repeated. 

"Yes, right now," he said, going back into the main room, throwing his things together. The television was on, tuned to the nationwide news. 

"Zack, you're scaring me," Syl said, following him, her voice shaking. "What's going on?" 

"I have to go," was all he'd say. 

"Go where?" she asked, grabbing his arm. He glanced up and the look of immense pain in his eyes terrified her. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. 

"Chicago," he said finally. 

"What's wrong, is someone in trouble?" 

"Not if I get there first," he muttered. "Syl, I need you to go to Idaho and get Zane." He grabbed a piece of paper with some information scribbled on it, handed it to her. "This is the address of your place in Sacramento, and the apartment I've got waiting for him." He grabbed a small duffel bag and handed it to her. "Take this, it's $25,000 for his bail. The address of where they've got him is on there too." 

"25-" Syl's eyes widened. "He's in prison?" No wonder Zack had wanted to get there so fast. "What did he do?" 

"Ask him when you see him, I don't have time," Zack muttered. 

"Who's in trouble?" she asked quietly, grabbing her own bag and shoving the money and addresses into it. "Who's in Chicago, Zack?" He turned slowly to her, his eyes pained. 

"It's Ben," he said softly, then shook his head at himself. "I should have watched him more closely." He was angry, shoving things into his bag. "I shouldn't have left him alone so long. I _knew_ there was something wrong." 

"He called the contact number?" Syl asked; Zack finished throwing the rest of his things together silently and turned to her. His eyes flitted to the television for a moment before he answered. 

"I wish," he said heavily, then softened and pulled her into a hug. 

"Be careful, Zack." 

"It'll be okay," he assured her, releasing her, swinging the bag onto his shoulder. "You'll find a car?" He headed for the door and she followed him, nodding. 

"Don't worry about me," she said. "Just go." 

"Okay," he said. "I'll come check on you in Sacramento in a week or so." 

"Alright," she said, trying to look strong. "Bye, Zack." He managed a small, tense smile, and then he was gone. 

  
It was a seven-hour drive to Meridian where Zane was being detained at the Idaho State Penitentiary. Syl went through their procedures and signed their pointless forms with fake information before they asked her for the $25,000. 

"Bring him out first," Syl said, causing the officer in front of her to leer at her disgustingly. She knew better than to trust the corrupt government America was so lucky to call its own. The officer called to one of the men behind him and Syl waited in the dirty station until Zane was led out, handcuffed and the whole works. He looked significantly less cheerful than she remembered him but he brightened when he saw her. 

"Syl," he said, hugging her close. "You've grown." 

"You too," she said, smiling up at him. She looked at the officer holding him, waved the money at him. "Let him go." Reluctantly the man unlocked the shackles around Zane's wrists and her brother rubbed them dramatically. Syl rolled her eyes, handed the twenty-five grand over. 

"Don't forget, Mr. Roberts," one of the men said to Zane. "Your trial's in three days and if you run again no amount of bail will get you out of here." He leered at Syl, dragged his eyes up her body. "But that pretty girl might still be able to help you. Get with me, baby, and-" 

"Shut up," Zane snapped irritably, and he and Syl both glared dangerously at him before turning and leaving the station. The officer stared after them sourly but then looked down at his $25,000 and shrugged. 

"So," Zane said, sliding into the truck. "Why didn't Zack come for me?" He grinned at her, added quickly, "Not that I'm unhappy to see you by any stretch of the imagination of course." She smirked and started the truck she'd stolen from some poor guest back at the hotel in Provo. His smile faded. "What happened to your face, Syl, did you get in a fight?" She shrugged. 

"Something like that," she said as she pulled out of the parking lot. "What on Earth did you do, Zane?" 

"Oh, well..." He looked sheepish. She prompted him with her eyes and he signed. "Well, it started out all innocent, Syl, really." 

"I'm sure it did," she said, smiling sideways at him. 

"I went to the pound to get a dog. You know me and dogs, I love them. Anyway, so I was going to get a puppy and the girl left me alone to choose one and everything, and I was standing in the room with all the cages and I just looked around and..." He spread his hands as though to illustrate the complete lack of control over his own actions. "I just opened all the cages and the door, and set them all free. You should have seen it, Syl, those dogs were so happy." She glanced at him, his cheerful face. She'd missed him. 

"Those must have been some dogs," she said. "The bail was twenty-five thousand, Zane, I highly doubt that's all you did." 

"I'm not finished." He flushed slightly. "Well, the girl who'd been helping me I guess saw the dogs running away out the back or something, so she called the police. Anyway, to make a very long story short and less embarrassing for yours truly, I managed to procure a weapon and ended up in sort of a shootout with the police that may have also involved explosions." 

_"Sort_ of a shootout," she repeated. He grinned, his face red. 

"Well, a shootout then." He poked her shoulder. "Come on, Syl, you know what I'm talking about." 

"Yeah, yeah," she laughed. She turned to him, frowned. "Did anyone get hurt?" 

"Oh, no, of course not. Come on, you know me better than that." 

"No wonder Zack was willing to leave you in lockup for a few days." She smiled at him. "That was really stupid, Zane." She reached over and touched his red hair. "And very sweet." 

"That's me, sweet and stupid," he said amicably, flexing his fingers and threading them behind his head. "I'm glad I don't have to sit through some trial, though." He glanced at her. "You ever been in one?" Syl's eyes slid to the left, away from him. She shrugged. 

  
_"Michael," the doctor said. "You can wait just outside." Syl tensed beside him and felt Zack hesitate. The doctor noticed this and smiled at her. _

"It's fine, he'll be right outside while you and I talk." 

"Talk," Syl repeated. She looked at Zack. "That's all?" 

"I'll have to ask you a few questions before we start the examination," the doctor answered for him gently. Syl gazed at Zack fearfully. 

"Examination?" she whispered, shivering slightly. She tugged on his arm. "I want to leave." 

"Can't you just make her stop bleeding?" he asked flatly. The doctor did not seem pleased that he was still in the room, but she hid it with another smile. 

"There are some standard procedures in this situation, Michael," the doctor said vaguely. Zack crossed his arms over his chest and didn't move. 

"What procedures?" 

"Well," she said, "We'll need to know exactly what happened for our records and a rape kit will have to put together in case she wants to press charges. Also, she'll-" 

"She won't want to prosecute," Zack said. He took Syl's hand, pulled her aside, looked into her dark eyes. "Justice is a bullet in the head from three storeys up, not some trial where you'll be paraded in front of the media and forced to live through this nightmare all over again. I'm not _letting that happen." He reached a hand up, touched her hair soothingly, brushed a tear from her cheek. "Don't worry, Syl, this is all going to go away after tonight." Syl nodded, tried to be strong. She believed him._

  
"Syl?" Zane's fingers were gentle against her shoulder but it made her jump anyway. "Sorry," he said, removing his hand, looking confused. 

"It's okay, you just surprised me." 

"So have you ever been in a trial?" Zane asked again. 

"Nope." She knew he saw her hands tense against the steering wheel but he let it go. 

"Where am I going?" 

"There's an address in that bag," Syl said, gesturing to the backseat, glad for the change in topic. Zane searched through the things in the and pulled out a teddy bear with a tag attached to its ear, showed it to her. 

"'For Raine,'" he read. "'All my love, Mummy.'" Syl cringed. 

"Oh, that makes me feel awful," she said, sinking down slightly in the seat. Zane touched her shoulder sympathetically. 

"Here's the address," he said, pulling it out of the bag. "Oh, nice, I'm going to California." 

"Really?" she asked, brightening. "Me, too. Where are you headed?" 

"Los Angeles." 

"I'm going to be in Sacramento." 

"You know we're not supposed to know this," Zane said, his eyes sparkling. "Zack's losing it." 

"He has a lot on his mind," Syl told him. "He had something to take care of in Chicago with Ben." 

"What?" 

"I don't know, he was in too much of a hurry to tell me." 

"You don't think he's..." Zane trailed off. 

"What?" 

"Zack once told me he was worried about Ben, that he might crack, that he goes to church and everything." 

"Me too," she said. "He said he thought Ben might still believe in..." She stopped, didn't want to say any more. Zane's hand was soft against her hair. 

"Whatever it is, Zack will fix it," he said. Syl felt slightly better when he said that. 

"Yes," she said after a moment, forcing herself to shake away her fear. "Of course." Beside her Zane yawned. "Tired?" 

"You can't exactly sleep soundly in lockup," he explained. "Too many inmates with funny ideas in their heads. Really, Syl, don't ever go to prison." 

"Oh, and that was my big plan," she said sarcastically, glanced at him as he yawned again. "There's a blanket in the back. Sleep." Zane nodded, reached for it, pulled it around his shoulders. 

"Thanks for getting me out," he said. 

"Hey, what are sisters for if not to bail you out of prison and help you evade trials?" Zane smiled a little at her words. 

"Goodnight, Syl," he said, his eyelids already fluttering. "I'll see you later." She nodded, reached out and brushed a hand against his soft hair. He was already asleep; she sighed, gripped the steering wheel more tightly. Syl stared out at the endless road, worrying about Ben and what he possibly could have done that would put such an anguished look on Zack's face.   



	6. Chapter 5

Usually they came when she least expected it, when she was defenceless against them. They hit her fast and hard and left her dizzy, her head spinning. Something stupid would start them, like the pattern on wallpaper, the feel of a certain type of fabric against her skin, the sound of a child screaming, so like her own cries of so long ago. She never saw them coming, and tonight was no different. On some level she knew she was sitting in the truck, felt the seat cushioning her, the wheel in her hands. But the road faded away and disappeared before her eyes. The sound of the rain on the window, a slow steady pounding, turned to the bumping of a headboard against a wall from six years before. 

  
_"Shut up!" her foster uncle yelled, slapping her face as he moved on top of her. She stopped sobbing, bit her lip, drawing blood that trickled down toward her chin. Her small hands dug into the mattress; she tried not to cry, not to scream, not to make it any worse on herself than it had to be. His sweaty fingers grabbed her blonde hair painfully, pulling on it as he moaned above her, his body pressing her down into the mattress, smothering her, slipping and sliding against her. "You like that?" he grunted at her as silent tears rolled down her face. He grabbed her small chest in his meaty hands, squeezed painfully. "Yeah, you do, you tight little slut," he panted as she cried without sound. "Yeah, you do." _

"Syl!" Someone was yelling her name. "Syl!" it came again. Who the hell was yelling at her, who was in the bedroom? It wasn't time for Zack to save her yet, that wouldn't happen for months... 

  
But wait, the bedroom had fallen away from around her now and the present suddenly returned in a flash of colour and light, disorienting her. _Where am I? The car!_ Yes, she was in the car; trees were slapping the windows- _Where's the road?_

"Syl!" the yell washed over her once more. _Oh, it's Zane. Why does he sound so scared?_

"What are-" She jumped as she felt his body push against hers, his hands grabbing for the wheel her own fingers had slipped off. She looked up, panicked, her eyes flying around. She couldn't seem to understand what was happening. The car lurched and her hands finally found the steering wheel again, registering her feet on the gas pedal, easing off it, pressing on the break. Zane released the wheel to her and the car swerved dangerously close to a large tree, toward a low stump. They turned sharply, but the car's front wheel caught and they sailed through the air, snapping and twisting against a tree. She heard a scream that she belatedly registered as her own and felt Zane's hand clutching her shoulder. Then there was a loud crash and a stab of pain before everything went black. 

* * *

Someone was kissing her. _Krit?_ He was kissing her and there was pain exploding through her, hitting her from every side. _Where am I shot? Did I lose control over my gun again? Lydecker's going to be- No, wait, I escaped, this isn't Manticore anymore..._

He kissed her again and bile rose in her throat; she coughed suddenly and only then realized that she hadn't been breathing. She narrowly avoided vomiting into his mouth and a moment later his hands were against her shoulders, turning her onto her side so she could breathe more easily. It was freezing and her face was damp. She was shivering. 

"Syl," she heard Krit calling her; he'd stopped kissing her now. His hands were soft and shaky against her cheeks. Then reality suddenly came crashing back as her eyes fell open: she was lying on the cold, wet ground, the stars shining overhead, trees surrounding her, their burning car a few feet away. Krit wasn't here, it was Zane, and he hadn't been kissing her, he'd been giving her mouth-to-mouth. His face was staring down at her, his dark eyes wide and frightened. He leaned his head down and touched his forehead against hers, breathing hard, his whole body shaking with relief. 

"You're okay," he said, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "Thank God you're okay." 

"What happened?" she whispered, her voice raspy. He pulled back from her, forced a smile. 

"You forgot to drive." 

"Oh." She coughed again, inhaled deeply, trying to breathe. He brushed the hair from her face. "It's my shell-shock." If she'd been fully conscious she never would have said it. 

"Your what?" he asked, eyes narrowing in confusion. She waved a hand at him; post-traumatic stress disorder wasn't something she wanted to discuss right now. She saw blood matted in his red hair, trickling down his face. She raised a hand, touched his cheek. He cringed slightly. 

"You're hurt." 

"I'm fine," he assured her. "What about you, can you sit up?" Syl considered that for a moment. 

"I think so." She grasped his forearms and he helped her tentatively to a sitting position. Pain ebbed down her body but nothing seemed to be broken or bleeding. 

"You look okay," he said, scrutinizing her. "How's your head? Can you stand?" Syl nodded and he helped her to her feet slowly, his arms around her waist. She stood there for a moment, holding onto him as dizziness clouded her vision. She blinked against it for several moments before she could cautiously release him; he left his arms outstretched in case he had to catch her, but she stayed on her feet, glancing over at the car and managing a small smile when she saw it was totalled. 

"We should stop for the night and sleep," he said. He walked over to the car, dug around behind the seats, avoiding the fire spreading through the front. "Here," he called triumphantly, finding their bag of addresses and Syl's things unscathed. "We'll hitchhike into the nearest town." 

"I'm sorry, Zane," she said as they headed through the trees and back toward the road, following the track they'd left in the forest. 

"It's alright, I'm just glad you're-" He glanced at her, stopped. "Hey, Syl, don't cry, we're alright." 

"I hate it," she whispered, wiping at her tears angrily. "I hate it." Zane's arms wrapped around her, his chin against her hair. 

"Shshsh," he soothed her; she knew he didn't understand but he was warm and safe beside her and that was enough. She cried into him for a few comfortable moments until he released her, smoothing the hair off her face and smiling a little before taking her hand and continuing toward the road. They climbed up from the ditch and she sat down on the side of the road, her head still reeling, as Zane tried to flag down one of the passing cars. Most ignored him, but finally one stopped, a black pickup truck, and he talked with the driver for a moment before waving her over. She got slowly to her feet and walked to Zane, who had opened the backseat door for her. She slid into it, glancing over at a baby sleeping in a carseat as Zane climbed into the front beside the driver, a kind-looking young man with a wide smile. 

"I'm Jim," he told her. She smiled at him. 

"Syl," she said. "What's your baby's name?" She took the sleeping child's tiny hand in her own and it tightened around her fingers automatically. 

"That's Sarah," he said, pulling the truck back onto the highway. "So what are you folks doing out here so late?" 

"We had a little car trouble," Zane said, glancing back at Syl. "So we thought we'd hitchhike into town, find a place to stay tonight." Jim nodded. 

"Sounds good," he said, then caught Syl's yawn in the rearview mirror. 

"I know the seats aren't too comfortable, darling, but there's a blanket just underneath if you want to sleep." She smiled at him, wasn't annoyed by the pet name he used. It sounded like something he'd call a daughter, not a woman he considered a sexual object. She found the blanket, wrapped it around herself. "Your girlfriend?" she heard Jim ask as she was drifting off, Sarah's tiny, soft fingers still wrapped around one of her own. 

"No, my sister," Zane answered. Then she didn't hear any more because she was asleep, exhausted from the accident and everything she didn't want to remember but couldn't escape. 

  
_The dream always started back at Manticore, but even her one consolation there, her family, Zack and Krit and the others, was no comfort. They were there, but none of them had features. She still knew who they were, but they were faceless, couldn't see the pain that was being inflicted on her. She screamed and they couldn't hear. She ran to Zack and took his hands, but he didn't see the panic on her face so all he could do was hold her hands and not understand. _

Huge statues chased her, running without feet, faster than she could ever be. They would corner her, force her in the direction they wanted her to go, but she didn't want to run that way. She knew what was waiting for her there. 

"Zack!" she screamed. "Zack!" But he'd never hear, he'd just stand there, grown up but without a face, unseeing, unable to help her, still wearing the military-issue gown from Manticore though he should have been far too big for it. The statues would chase her where she didn't want to go, and she'd walk into a big room with broken windows, the paint peeling on the walls and jagged cliffs forming the landscape outside. The air smelled like rotting dead animals and there was nothing in the room but a huge bed, a sickly-cheerful rose petal design on the quilt, thorns jarring angrily from stems. 

A little girl laid in the bed, crying, tied to the headboard. It was herself at thirteen, and she couldn't help the child escape. Syl would run to her every time, pull at the bonds holding her down, but she could never get enough strength to actually break them. 

"Help me," her younger self always screamed. "Please help me, I want to go home! I want to be safe, I want to go back to Manticore!" Syl pulled at the ropes and sobbed. 

"Stop it, that isn't home," she hissed, trying to loosen the knots, unable to do so. "You're free now." A bang at the door, Uncle John coming. 

"Look at me!" her younger self screamed; Syl looked, saw the child's stomach and womb ripped open, a dead baby, the daughter she'd never seen, thrown on the floor. Blood everywhere. 

"No, she lived," Syl whispered, backed away. "I saved her. I saved her. She lived." 

"You did this!" her younger self sobbed. "Untie me! You're supposed to be a soldier, why don't you fight?" Syl collapsed against the wall, crying, the door opening as she did. Her foster uncle never saw her, always went right to the girl, the blood gone by now, the dead baby vanished. Then Syl would witness it all over again, a long, drawn-out version of every night she'd ever endured with him, and just like then she wouldn't be able to fight, she wouldn't be able to scream or even cry. All she could manage to do was clap her hands over her ears to drown out her own screams and wonder how this world was better than anything. 

  
"Wake up, sleeping beauty, we're here," Zane's soft voice cut through her dream, his hand shaking her shoulder gently. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up slowly, forcing herself to shake off the nightmare. She glanced over at Sarah, still asleep, and let go of the baby's hand, brushing her fingers over the child's innocent face before climbing out of the truck. She closed the door and Jim smiled at them from the driver's seat. 

"You folks have fun in Elko," he said. 

"Thanks for the ride," Zane answered. Jim nodded, pulled out of the parking lot. Syl walked quietly as Zane led her into a small motel, got them a room. She stumbled into one of the twin beds and fell onto it, still exhausted though she was now afraid to drift off again. She heard Zane on the phone before sleep overtook her. 

"Hey, it's me, I'm safe, just wanted to leave you a message to let you know. I hope things are going okay with Ben." She heard him lower his voice, registering his words only on a subconscious level that she knew she would forget by morning. "By the way, Zack, why does Syl have shell-shock?" Then everything drifted away as sleep claimed her once again.   



	7. Chapter 6

"Well, Sylvie," Zane threw over his shoulder as they entered the apartment Zack had found for her in Sacramento. "This place looks nice." She smirked at him. 

"I missed you calling me that," she said. 

"I missed you," he said. They stood across from each other for a long moment, just smiling sadly at one another. Then Zane heaved a long sigh, his dark eyes sad. "I don't want to leave." 

"You have to," she said heavily. "You've got a place as good as this waiting for you in LA." She brightened a little, smiled at him. "You know where I am, so we'll keep in touch. It'll be nice." 

"Yeah," he said, managed a smile back. "We can gab on the phone all the time." 

"Talk about our love lives." 

"Friends." 

"Jobs." 

"Ugh, who needs those?" Zane asked. Syl laughed at him, then reached up and pulled him into a hug. His hands tightened around her back, squeezed. 

"I'll miss you, baby brother," she murmured against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. He smiled, touched her hair, pulled back. 

"I'll miss you, too," he said. Then, with a sigh and another small smile, he left her in her new apartment to make a life for herself. Syl looked around the quiet living room, empty of all furniture, and walked to the window, pulling the shabby curtains away. She saw the ocean spanning out away from the window, just a block away as Zack had promised, and smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, and anything, she supposed, was better than Steve. 

* * *

_"Zack..." she called to him, stopping next to his bed. "Zack..." For someone who was always so paranoid, he was actually quite a heavy sleeper. "Zack," she said again, a bit louder, and his eyes snapped open. He sat up immediately. _

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes already darting around the room, assessing any threats. She sat down on the side of his bed. 

"Nothing," she said, smiled at him. "I just wanted to say... Happy New Year. It's 2012." 

"Oh," Zack said, and smiled at her though it was obvious he thought this whole thing was a bit strange. "Okay, Syl, Happy New Year." She played with the bedspread without moving or saying anything for so long that he put a hand on her shoulder, frowned. "What's wrong, Syl?" She sighed a little, looked at him reluctantly. 

"Can I sleep here tonight?" she asked in a tiny voice; there was a long pause. 

"No," he said finally. Her eyes flew to his, shocked that he'd refused. 

"What?" she sputtered. 

"I'm fifteen, Syl. I don't know if you understand what that means, but I'm a hormone machine." He didn't looked embarrassed about it, just like he was just stating the biological facts. 

"I'm your sister," she mumbled, flushing slightly, glancing away. He opened his mouth to say something else, then decided against it, sighed. 

"What's wrong?" 

"My bed is so big. The room is too dark." 

"Turn a light on." He looked exasperated. 

"That's not the point, Zack," she hissed. "And I'm not going back to school. You'll have to kill me first." 

"Syl, you're thirteen." 

"You don't go." Zack stiffened at having his word challenged. 

"That's different," he said. "I move around a lot. It doesn't-" He stopped, let it go. "What's wrong with school?" he asked. "You used to like it." 

"Well, I don't now," she said softly. Her hand rested against her large stomach without meaning to, on the baby growing inside her. "The kids out here are so mean. They call me..." She trailed off, not wanting him to get angry, not wanting him to go down there and make a scene. They'd started calling her 'slut,' 'whore,' and a thousand other horrible names when it became obvious that she was a pregnant thirteen-year-old. Beside her, Zack stiffened. 

"You can't let them get to you, Syl," he said firmly. Don't be a weak soldier, Syl, _he was really saying. She glared at him. "Just explain to your teacher-" _

"I already did," _she cut him off. "I'm not going back. You can't make me." She was acting like a child, she knew, but dammit, she_ was _a child. _

"Yes, I can," he said. "You need an education, Syl, that's important out here." 

"Please let me sleep here tonight," she went back to her original request, ignoring that particular point. "I have my own blanket. I'll stay on my side." 

"Syl..." He was obviously confused, and she didn't blame him. Some days she didn't even like him to touch her, and now she wanted to sleep with him? She didn't quite know why herself, just that she knew he'd always made her feel safe. For a moment she was sure he'd refuse again, but then he let his breath out in a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Okay, fine," he said. "If you really think it's necessary." She turned and ran back to her bedroom before he could change his mind and grabbed a pillow and blanket, returning a moment later to crawl into his bed. His whole body was tense and it took several minutes for him to relax even slightly. 

"Thank you," she said after a long time into the darkness. Zack rolled over on his side like she was so they were facing each other, reached out a hand. She almost laughed as she saw him searching for a platonic place to put it. Finally he rested it on her shoulder. 

"This isn't going to happen every night, is it?" he asked. Syl shook her head. 

"Don't worry, Zack," she said, but he just nodded and continued to look worried. He gazed at her for so long that she started feeling a little uncomfortable. "Zack," she said. "I'm fine. Really." 

"You know, it's my fault," he said suddenly. The pain in his voice surprised her. "I'm sorry." 

"What are you talking about?" Syl asked, alarmed. 

"Everything," Zack said softly; he wasn't meeting her eyes now. "You, what happened, that I couldn't save you, Jack and Eva and all the others who died, he fact that Ben scares me now every time I go and see him... everything." 

"That's ridiculous," she said, and meant it. "Let's just go to sleep." But he pressed on. 

"No," he insisted. "No. It was my fault. I was first." 

"First..." 

"The first successful X5." His voice was bitter. "Perfect, they called me, Syl. I did what they said, followed their orders, ingested their dogma, their practices, what they wanted me to do. If it hadn't been such a damned success, if I'd been a failure, none of you would have had to suffer so much." 

"We wouldn't be alive," Syl said stiffly. "Besides, you don't know you were the first, not for sure. There could have been others..." But they both knew that wasn't the point. "Is that what you want?" she asked. "For us never to have been born?" 

"Maybe," he whispered, shocking her. "At least if you hadn't been born, you wouldn't have had to suffer so much." His hand moved to her hair, touched it. She was even more shocked to see tears in his eyes. "What he did to you..." His eyes fell on her enlarged stomach and she smacked his hand away. 

"That's pretty stupid," she said, obviously surprising him. "And it's not your fault you were an obedient toddler. We got out, that was you. You made it better, Zack, not worse. You made Manticore bearable." There was a long pause. 

"Thanks, Syl," he said finally, finding her hand in the darkness and squeezing it. She smiled as she held his hand, but she knew he didn't believe her. It was all over his face, in his guilt-filled eyes, burned into his soul like the barcode on his neck, written into his genetic code. She shivered a little. 

"But you did save me, Zack," she tried. He just gazed at her, his eyes an apology, his whole body tense with grief. He really did believe it was his fault. It wasn't fair! Didn't he get it? He was everything to them. 

"Go to sleep," he said softly. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." He extracted his hand from hers, pulled his blanket around his shoulders. After a long time he said quietly, "You don't have to go to school tomorrow if you don't want to, Syl. You don't have to go back ever again if you don't want to." 

"Thank you," she said softly, but he was already asleep, or pretending to be. She'd promised not to, but she snuggled against his side anyway, rested her head in the crook of his arm, against his shoulder. She tried not to cry for herself or for him, for all of them. There was too much to cry for and if she started now she wasn't ever going to stop. "I love you, Zack," she whispered against his chest softly. She felt his arms tighten around her and pulled her head back to look at him. His eyes were still closed. 

"I love you, too, Syl." It was so soft she thought she might have dreamt it. He'd never said that before; never. _Zack didn't talk about feelings. They'd all known he loved them, but she had never heard him say it, inside Manticore or out. She stared at him for a long time, his face, how much older he looked than fifteen. Then she laid her head against him again and this time she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her face. _

  
"Hey, ángela, está usted bien?" Syl's head shot up as someone called out to her, asking her if she was okay. She was on the balcony of the apartment Zack had gotten for her, staring out at the ocean. She didn't realize she'd been crying until now, and she wiped at her tears angrily. Syl located the person who'd be talking to her, on the balcony next to hers, leaning against the railing. She could have touched him if she'd reached out, they were that close. 

_"Estoy muy bien,"_ she muttered. I'm fine. _"Hable Inglés."_ Speak English already. Couldn't he see she wasn't Spanish? She thought it was pretty damned obvious. And who cares if she just happened to speak the bloody language, did that mean she had to? Syl was in a bad mood, having been pulled out of one of the daydreams she liked to lose herself in, the ones that made her happy. The guy smiled at her, oblivious to her annoyance. He took a drag on his cigarette; digusting habit, that. A girl's arms were wrapped around him, her dark eyes regarding Syl with curiosity. 

"I'm Miguel," he said in a heavy accent. He was in his late thirties, the woman beside him about ten years younger, not much older than Syl, maybe twenty-two or -three. 

"Syl," she answered. 

"Mercedes," the girl drawled at her. She was quite pretty actually, with a wide grin and a friendly face. Syl smiled at her. 

"We're your neighbours," Miguel explained. As if that wasn't obvious, him being on the balcony next to hers. "You sad?" he asked. "You want to come over and get drunk with us?" Beside him, Mercedes giggled a little; maybe she was already drunk. 

"I don't drink," she said. That wasn't exaclty true. She used to drink, but now she didn't. She used to drown all her sorrows in alcohol after the baby was born and gone, after Zack had left her all alone. Well, that wasn't really fair; it hadn't exactly happened that way... Nevertheless, getting drunk had helped a lot after the baby, after Zack left, but it hadn't, too, at the same time. Funny how that worked. 

"Well, soda, then," Miguel pressed. He seemed to really want her over and the soldier part of her wondered why. _He's just trying to be nice,_ she scolded herself. Miguel added, "Come on, _mi ángel,_ there's no use crying on your own." She didn't really like him calling her 'my angel' but she shrugged her annoyance off. 

"You don't even know what I was crying about," she muttered, but only loud enough for herself to hear. She stood and smiled at them, knowing they were trying to be nice and that she was just in a bad mood. Maybe a soda would be nice. Maybe she'd even become their friends. "Thanks," she said to Miguel before turning and walking through her apartment and out into the hall. She let herself into his apartment, similar in layout to hers but with better furniture and of course a more lived-in atmosphere; it had only been three days since she'd moved in. She could have jumped across the tiny space to his balcony, but she didn't think that would go over too well since she was pretty sure a normal person wouldn't just do that, a normal person without cat DNA to abolish any fears of six-storey heights. 

"So where do you come from?" Mercedes asked, putting a coke into Syl's hand. 

"Oh, a long way from here," she said, fingering an intricate vase on one of their shelves. Her neighbours exchanged a look but didn't press her on it. Syl picked up a picture of four smiling children, varying in ages from about three to twelve and strikingly similar. 

"Yours?" she asked them, smiling a little at the children's happy faces. 

"Mine," Miguel answered, beaming a little. Syl felt a pang and put the picture down. 

"Where are they?" she asked. 

"My ex-wife's got them for the weekend," he said, his smile fading a little as he caught the expression on her face. He tilted his head at her. "What about you, _mi ángel,_ do you have any kids?" Syl glanced up, took a sip of her soda to help get rid of the lump that had gathered in the throat. She swallowed. 

"Me?" She forced a laugh. "God, no, I'm only nineteen."   



	8. Chapter 7

Mercedes was the first real friend Syl had had in a long time. Mercedes showed her around Sacramento, helped her find some decent furniture for her apartment to replace the shabby living room set it had in it already. She even got Syl a job where she and Miguel both worked and where they'd met, at a family-owned restaurant called Gina's. 

In mid August it became unbearably hot, and Syl watched as dry winds blew in from the eastern mountains, bringing fires with them bigger than any seen in that region in at least twenty years. They swept down from the hills and consumed entire communities, unstoppable in their fury. Native Californians knew them as the Santa Anas, named after a famous Spanish general or some such thing, and Miguel said they brought insanity with them. All Syl knew was that they fascinated her. She spent all her spare time on her balcony, breathing in the scent of fire and ash. 

  
The winds brought something else with them, too. Mercedes pulled the door open one day in late August, when the fires had already been raging for over two weeks. Syl craned her neck to see over Mercedes's shoulder and he was just standing there, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, smiling a little at her. She stood and walked to him, smiled back. 

"Zack," she greeted him, leaning against the doorframe. She was dressed for the weather, a bikini with shorts and a tank top pulled over it, her hair tied back in a tight braid, the sweat trickling down between her shoulder blades. If there was one thing about California she wasn't enjoying, it was the heat, but Miguel promised it would pass soon. Zack was dressed like he'd come from somewhere much cooler. 

"Hey, Syl," he said, his eyes flitting behind her to Mercedes, who was gazing at him curiously. 

"I was wondering when you'd show up," she said, smiling at him. "Mercedes, excuse us, would you?" 

"Who is this, _chica?"_ she asked, wiggling her eyebrows expectantly at Syl, who blushed a little. 

"My brother," she said, and laughed as a flush coloured Mercedes' cheeks. "Zack." 

"Sorry," she said, extending her hand and introducing herself. Zack took it, shaking it slowly and forcing a smile. Then Mercedes left and Syl closed the door behind her. 

"What the hell is with this heat?" Zack asked, walking into her living room and throwing his jacket off, crashing into her sofa. 

"I know, isn't it awful?" Syl asked, rifling through the fridge. "Lemonade?" 

"Yeah," Zack answered both questions, getting up and reaching for the sliding glass balcony door. 

"No, don't-" Syl started, but he'd already pulled it open all the way. Ash and heat sweltered in at them. Syl ran over, thrusting the glass of lemonade she was still holding into his hand and pulling the door closed, coughing. Zack actually laughed at her. 

"Sorry," he said, taking a sip of his drink. Syl smirked at him, swatted him upside the head. She hugged him. 

"What do you think I am, an idiot?" she asked. "If opening the window helped it would be open, _mi hermano."_ Zack looked at her curiously. 

_"Por qué somos discurso españoles?"_ he asked. Syl hit him again, fell backward into her sofa. He sat next to her. 

"Show off," she said. 

"Hey, you're one to talk," he protested. He mocked what she'd said to him in Spanish, "My sister." 

"How's Ben?" she asked; he grew immediately serious, stiffened a little. 

"He's fine." 

"Truth." 

"I'm not going back there, Syl." 

"To Chicago?" 

"To Ben. I'm not going back." 

"What are you talking about, Zack?" 

"He's gone too far this time." He looked at her, his eyes angry. _"Killing_ people? That's too much." Syl collapsed back into the sofa, eyes wide. 

"He's killing people?" she asked softly, shocked. "Why?" 

"Because he's crazy," he growled. 

"Seriously, Zack, I want to know." 

"Seriously. He's a goddamn lunatic, Syl." 

"Zack-" 

"Anyway, I'm not going back." 

"Unless he needs you," she added. He looked at her. 

"Obviously," he said. Syl smiled at him, took a sip of her lemonade. 

"I missed you." 

"You too." He cleared his throat and changed the subject so she wouldn't ask anymore questions about Ben. "So Zane's doing okay." 

"Yeah." She frowned. "You're not going to move him because I know where he is, are you?" Zack pretended to consider that so obviously that she laughed at him. 

"You're in a good mood," she said. It wasn't often Zack got playful, even a little. "But seriously." He sighed a little, rolled his eyes. 

"No, Syl, I won't move him. You guys can have slumber parties or whatever the hell you're thinking about." He frowned, pointed a finger at her. "But not the kind of slumber party you had with Krit." He laughed again. 

"You _are_ in a good mood. Are you drunk?" Syl was amazed that she'd gotten two genuine laughs out of him in ten minutes. 

"No," he said. "I'm just incredibly stressed out." He frowned a little and she touched his shoulder. 

"Let's go swimming. Cool off." 

"I can't," he said. "Jondy-" 

"Is fine," Syl cut him off, then hesitated. "Right?" 

"Yes, I just haven't seen her in a while." 

"So what's another day or two?" Syl asked. "Please. It'll be fun." Zack looked at her, then slowly nodded. 

"Okay, Syl. I haven't swum in a long time." She could tell he was thinking lengths, exercise. 

"Surfing," she said. 

"I've never surfed." 

"Well, now's the time to do it. Mercedes has been teaching me all sorts of things. I'm horrible at it, but it's really fun." 

"Is that the girl that was here before?" he asked as she stood up, heading for the door. 

"Yeah," she said, pulling it open. "I'll just go ask her boyfriend if you can borrow some shorts, okay?" 

"Alright," he said, so she left him alone for a moment, going into the apartment next door without bothering to knock. 

"Syl, Syl!" One of Miguel's sons, a rambunctious six-year-old named Dominic, launched himself at her as his two older sisters tried to tag him. He climbed Syl, boosting himself onto her back. She held his legs and smiled down at the girls. 

"Sorry, Tia," she told the oldest, a beautiful child of twelve. "Looks like he's free." The kids had declared her a 'safe zone' long ago. Tia and her sister Josie, who was eight, both made faces and tried to haul Dominic off of her, but he just laughed and held on tightly to Syl's shoulders, his whole face a grin. 

"Where's your daddy?" she asked. Tia cupped her hands around her face, screamed at the top of her lungs for her father, who came running almost immediately, likely thinking that his child was being murdered. 

"Thanks," Syl said dryly, shaking her head at the girl, who just giggled and started chasing Josie around instead of Dominic. Their brother, watching the girls' fun, started to feel left out and let himself off Syl's back, which had of course been his sisters' plan all along. They turned on him, chasing him farther back in the large apartment, all three of them giggling. The toddler, Mika, was in Miguel's arms, fast asleep. Syl smiled and touched the boy's dark hair. 

"What can I do for you, _mi ángel?"_ Miguel asked. 

"My brother's visiting and we want to go swimming," Syl told him. "Do you have anything he can borrow?" 

"Yeah," he said. "Sure." He handed Dominic to her, who fussed for a moment in Syl's arms before his small hands found her hair and held onto it, his softness warm against her bare shoulders. She bent and kissed his head, breathing in the scent of baby powder and innocence. Miguel returned, held out a pair of shorts. 

"Thanks," Syl said, reluctantly switching them for the baby. "I'll see you later." 

"Have fun," he said, smiling. She closed the door behind her and found Zack waiting for her by the window, staring out at the ocean. She crept toward him, wondering if she could startle him. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked when she was beside him, but he didn't even jump. She sighed inwardly; even if she had surprised him, he'd never show it anyway. She handed him the shorts. 

"I'm already wearing my suit," she said. "I'll wait for you out here." 

"Okay." He smiled, went into her bedroom to change. Syl's front door suddenly banged open, Dominic shrieking as he ran in, Josie right on his heels. Syl reached out her arms and pulled the boy into them, hoisting him up. Zack opened the door of the bedroom a bit, stuck his head out. 

"Who's screaming?" he asked tensely. 

"Nothing to worry about." Syl laughed as Dominic wrapped his legs around her stomach, holding onto her like a baby monkey. Zack nodded and closed the door again. He emerged a moment later, the shorts a little small for him but nonetheless fine. 

"Sorry, babe," Syl said as she dropped Dominic to his feet. "Looks like you're on your own. Try not to break anything," she called over her shoulder as she and Zack left her apartment. 

"Your neighbours?" 

"Mmm-hmm." Syl pressed the button on the elevator, waited for it. 

"Cute kids," Zack said. She glanced sideways at him, hated the way he was looking at her, like she might break. She shrugged a little, then stepped into the elevator as the doors parted. 

* * *

"So he actually couldn't do it?" 

"Zack has about as much potential in surfing as you do in cruelty, Zane," Syl said, laughing along with her brother. She rolled over on her bed, staring up on the ceiling; the phone cord that was already tangled in various parts of her clothing wrapping itself further around her leg as she did. Syl had a bad habit of ravelling herself up in the telephone cord by moving around whenever she was involved in a long conversation. 

"I would have paid to see that," Zane said, chuckling to himself. 

"What about you, what wonderful things have you been up to?" 

"I met a girl," he said, and Syl's brows lifted in surprise. 

"That was fast." 

"Oh, come on, you know I'm irresistible, Syl," he teased. "I'm surprised it took this long." 

"Details," she said. 

"Five-ten, big smile, great body, nice, cheerful, friendly. Dark skin, brown eyes, great hands-" 

"Hands?" she interrupted, confused. 

"Hands are important, Syl, didn't you know that? Hands can be quite beautiful." Syl studied her own hands as he continued, "She's really great. We were both at the same club and ordered the same drink. Then we got to talking and we have a lot more in common." Syl smiled at the dreamy quality of his voice; Zane always fell hard and fast and usually got left somewhat disappointed when his girlfriends turned out to have flaws just like everybody else. 

"Well, don't ask her to walk down the aisle just yet, Zane," she said, smiling at him over the phone. 

"Silly Syl," he teased. "I'm not hopeless." He was suddenly serious. "Tell me about Ben." 

"I told you twice." 

"Tell me again." 

"Zack said he's killing people. Putting his barcode on their necks. Lydecker was all over it in Chicago but Ben wouldn't listen to reason and leave." 

"What does he think is going to happen?" Zane asked quietly. "He doesn't think he'll get taken back..." 

"Zack wouldn't let that happen," Syl assured him. "You know that." 

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Of course." 

"Listen, Zane, I should go. But call me in a few days and tell me how things are going with- wait, what's her name?" 

"Lydia." 

"Lydia. Call me and tell me how things are going with her." 

"Okay. You alright, Syl?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Then I'll talk to you later?" 

"Bye, Zane." 

"Bye," he answered. She hung up the phone; she had suddenly very much not wanted to talk to Zane anymore, about Ben or anything. She just wished her apartment wasn't so damned hot.   



	9. Chapter 8

"Good morning, _mi ángel,_ how are-" 

"Mercedes," Syl cut him off, staring at the floor. Her hands wrung together. "Can I talk to you for a minute please?" She turned and left, wanting to get out of there, away from Miguel before she wrecked the first friendship she'd had in years. She heard Mercedes follow her, turned sharply toward her in the hall. Suddenly she started crying. Mercedes's eyes widened a little in alarm and she took Syl into her arms. 

"What's wrong?" she soothed. "What's wrong, _chica?"_

"I have to go away," Syl said, pulling back and wiping at her eyes. "Just for a few days. A week at the most. I wanted to tell you so you wouldn't worry." 

"Where are you going?" 

"Not too far," she answered, fidgeting. The door to Mercedes's apartment opened and Miguel came out, looking concerned. Syl stared at him, the muscles rippling under his skin. Why did it have to be so hot out? Why couldn't he put a shirt on, or a parka? Yes, a parka would do nicely to hide that beautiful, healthy, manly body that she'd like to- 

"Okay, I have to go," Syl cut her thoughts off hurriedly, turning away from them, struggling with her key in its lock. 

"What's wrong with you, are you on drugs?" Mercedes asked, opening the door for her. Syl laughed a little, walked inside. 

"I wish," she threw over her shoulder, closing the door behind her and gathering together some stuff. She picked up her phone, steadied her breathing, tried to stop fidgeting. She dialled Zack's number, not the contact number that would give her a machine but his emergency line. He answered before the first ring finished. 

"It's Syl," she said. 

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately. 

"Nothing, I'm fine." When she said that, she heard annoyance enter his voice. 

"This is an _emergency line,_ Syl," he said. "It's for _emergencies."_

"Oh," she feigned stupidity. "Really? I'll have to remember that." 

"You should-" Zack's voice suddenly cut off. 

"Hey there!" Perky, why did she always have to be so perky? Syl was not in the mood for cheeriness. 

"Hi, Jondy," she said, rubbing her fingers against her temples. 

"What's up, what's new, how goes it?" 

"What?" Syl was having trouble concentrating. "Oh, I was actually wanting to talk to Zack." There was a pause. 

"Oh," Jondy said finally, her voice flat. "Fine." 

"What's up, Syl?" Zack's voice came back. 

"Tell Jondy I'm sorry. Listen Zack, I'm in heat again." She flushed slightly; even the sound of his voice was making her want to jump through the line and- "Anyway," she hurried on when the silence on the other end of the line grew uncomfortable. "I wanted to know if Krit's still in Colorado." 

"You're going there?" Zack sounded surprised. 

"If I can make it." 

"Do you need me to drive-" he began automatically, then stopped. Syl smiled in spite of how tense she was feeling. 

"That would be a laugh. Is he where I left him?" 

"Yeah." Zack rattled off an address in Grand Junction where she'd had her last run-in with Krit. 

"Thanks," she said. "I'll talk to you later. Really, tell Jondy I'm sorry." 

"I will. Take care of yourself." 

"You too." She hung up, flexed her shaking fingers, then grabbed some stuff together and left her apartment. Across the street some young men were working on a construction site, but they stopped to whistle at her. She smiled at them, took an automatic step in that direction, glad for the chain-link fence separating them. Then she shook her head, forced herself to her truck, climbed in. She locked the doors- as if that would stop her- and stuck the key in the ignition. It was a sixteen-hour drive to Grand Junction, but she figured she could make it in ten; she just hoped she got there, and that Krit would be home when she arrived. 

  
On some level, Syl knew it was crazy to be going to see Krit for something like this. Sure, the last time she'd mumbled something about how being with him was the best cycle she'd ever had, and that she'd 'like to do it again sometime.' But did that give her the right to just show up at his apartment and- Hey, screw his rights. Screw _him._ Syl laughed a little at her own pun, her hands tapping away. Her mind wouldn't stop whirring, though. The problem was really, she supposed, that Krit was her _brother._

"My brother," she said aloud as she entered Nevada, testing the words on her tongue. Oddly she didn't feel as ashamed or frightened by them as she'd thought. "Probably the pheromones messing with my system. So he's my brother. So what? I can't control myself and as soon as I get into Colorado he won't be able to either. When we wake up we can go back to the way things were before." She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, played with the radio dial. "Hey, it'll be fine," she said, then stopped for a moment. "Hey, I should stop talking to myself." 

Syl dug around in her purse, found her cellular phone, dialled Jondy's number. No answer. Probably better that way, too. If Zack even knew she _had_ Jondy's number he'd be very annoyed, maybe even move her, and Syl didn't want that. Amongst the eleven of them, most of them knew where at least one or two of the others were, and so you could pretty much track down anyone you wanted if you had to. Ben and Max were the only ones completely cut off, and Syl suspected she was the only one Zack had told that Max was even out. She'd heard Jondy lament about losing Maxie under the ice that night, and Syl had wanted to say something, but everything she and Zack told each other was understood to be in confidence. She knew Zack kept both Max and Ben from them, Ben for obvious reasons, but Syl didn't know why he hid Max. He hadn't even made contact with her himself, kept saying he would if he needed to. It baffled Syl, but she didn't ask questions about something that was obviously confusing to even Zack himself. 

  
Syl hit a bit of an impasse in Utah, her main problem being that she now had about an eighth of her mind on the road and the rest on... other things. And she knew she needed at _least_ a quarter of her mind on the road if she wanted to live through a trip. That car accident with Zane hadn't been fun and she wasn't looking for a repeat. 

_Oh,_ she groaned suddenly. _Zane. I should have called and told him I was leaving._ She reached for her cell phone again, dialled his number. 

"Hello?" a woman's voice answered. Syl smiled. 

"This wouldn't happen to be Lydia?" she asked. If her head was clear she wouldn't have been that stupid. 

"No. Who's Lydia? Who is this?" The girl's voice cut off and Zane came on the line. 

"Hello?" Oh, his voice was so sexy. She forced that thought away. She was already targeting one brother, she didn't need to- 

"It's Syl," she said quickly. "I'm just calling you to let you know I'll be out of town for about a week, in case you call." 

"Slow down, Syl, you're speaking like you've had about sixty-five cups of coffee." 

"Stop _talking,"_ she growled without meaning to. Zane paused. 

"What?" 

"Sorry," she said through gritted teeth, trying to get a mental picture of a naked Zane out of her mind. "You just sound so _good."_

"Syl," he said. "Are you in heat or just crazy?" 

"The latter," she mumbled, the paused. "No, wait, the first one." Zane laughed. 

"I'd better let you go, then." 

"What happened to Lydia?" she asked, trying to get her mind off his looks. 

"It's a long story that I doubt you can concentrate on right now." 

"Thanks, Zane," she said seriously, glad he hadn't tried to tell her anyway. 

"No problem." There was a smile in his voice. "Call me back in a few days when you're you again." 

"Okay. Later." 

"Mmm-hmm, bye Syl." The phone clicked and she glanced up, swerved the truck as it nearly went off the road. All she could think of was men and sex and more men and more sex and she wasn't driving straight but she didn't care and how the hell far away was she from Grand Junction, anyway? The truck nearly went off the road again, but Syl caught out of the corner of her eye a 'Welcome to Salt Lake City' sign just before it whipped by. 

"Salt Lake City, Salt Lake City," she mumbled, her mind like soup. "Who lives..." She grabbed her cell phone, dialled. 

"Hello?" a man's voice answered. Syl forced the purr out of her voice. 

"Is Penny there?" she asked. 

"One second please," he said, put his hand over the receiver. He yelled, "Penny!" Syl sighed a little; the guy could yell. That meant big lungs, which meant big chest, which meant broad shoulders, which meant long legs, which meant big feet, which meant a big- 

"Hello?" 

"Tinga, thank God you're home!" 

"Syl?" 

"Yeah." 

"What's wrong?" 

"Will you meet me somewhere?" 

"There's a park about a block from my house." Tinga knew to ask questions later. She rattled off an address and Syl had to actually write it down to remember it. Tinga's voice was laced with worry. 

"Charlie's just heading to work," she said. "So he'll drop me off." 

"Whatever," Syl said, then, "Sorry." She felt a little bad, thinking that probably her sister was worried about someone being hurt or captured or whatever. But no, it was just Syl, in heat and climbing the walls. "I'll see you there," she said, and hung up. 

  
"You smell funny," Tinga's son Case said in his toddler's voice, making Syl laugh despite her agitation. Obviously the boy could smell her pheromones though he had no idea what they were. She'd never seen him before, wished they could have met under better circumstances. 

"Go play on the monkey bars, okay, baby? I'll come get you in a minute," Tinga said, smiling at her son. He nodded, ran off. Tinga kept an eye on him as she turned back to her sister. 

"I see what the problem is," she said, her dark eyes sympathetic. "Look at you, you're a mess." She touched Syl's hair soothingly and Syl fell into her arms, happy and relieved to see her and nearly crying with the frustration of not being able to do anything about her heat. 

"Oh, God," she groaned. "I didn't make it, it came too fast. Too strong. And then I remembered you were here in Salt Lake and-" 

"Shshsh," Tinga soothed, rubbing her back. "Make it where?" 

"To Colorado," she forced out, pulling back from her sister and pacing. "To Krit." Tinga's eyes widened a little; her gentle hand fell against Syl's arm, stopping her for a moment. 

"Krit?" 

"Yeah. He's..." Syl stopped, bit her lip. "He's my..." What? Heat-cycle-guy? Sex toy? What? She stood there not saying anything, but Tinga caught on anway. 

"I see," she said. There wasn't any disapproval in her voice, Syl was glad to note. She really couldn't have handled that right now. 

"I didn't know who else to go to," Syl continued, pacing again. "I don't want to sleep with a stranger, Tinga, I don't. I haven't done that since two cycles ago, almost a year ago. Last time me and Krit-" She stopped again, flushed slightly. Her sister nodded immediately. 

"You can stay with me." 

"No, I'd be too afraid. With your husband- I wouldn't want to accidentally..." 

"Right," Tinga said slowly. "Of course." She brightened a little, her dark eyes as cheerful as Syl remembered them. "I'll take you." 

"To Colorado? But you've got your son to take care of." 

"One of my neighbours can take him for a few hours." Tinga smiled. "I've wanted to get out of the house for a while now. You can tell me all about what you've been doing." 

"I don't think I'll be very good company," Syl said, smiling at Tinga and laying her head on her shoulder. "But thank you." 

"We should leave now," Tinga said, turned toward the monkey bars. "You've gotten worse since we've been standing here. Case!" 

"He's beautiful," Syl said as she raised her head again, gazed at the child heading toward them. 

"Thank you." Tinga looked so happy as Case rejoined them. "Why didn't you come before?" Syl shrugged, uncomfortable for more reasons than just her heat now. 

"No time," she lied. Tinga accepted this though she looked a little hurt, led Syl back to where she'd parked. She drove Syl to her apartment and stepped out of her truck, Case in her arms. 

"Don't go anywhere," she said through the open window, smiling a little. Syl nodded and gripped the seats, staring down into her lap in case any men passed by and tempted her. Tinga emerged again after what seemed like an eternity, this time without Case, and slid into the seat beside her. 

"I called Charlie, told him it was an emergency," she said, then glanced sideways at Syl. "Where to?" 

"Grand Junction, it's just over the border, about a five hour drive from here." Syl handed her a paper with Krit's address, glanced tensely at her, fidgeting. "Three if you step on it." Tinga smiled and nodded, gunning the engine. 

"I'm on it." 

* * *

"Thank you, thank you _thank_ you," Syl said as she jumped out of the truck even before Tinga could bring it to a complete stop, running around to the driver's side, extremely agitated. She hugged her sister through the open window. "I owe you so much, Tinga, I'm so sorry I wasn't better company." 

"Don't worry about it," she laughed, her dark eyes dancing in the starlight. "Just get in there and wake Krit up like I'm sure he wants to be woken up." Syl could barely stop herself from rubbing her hands together in anticipation as she grinned huge. Then with another hug for Tinga she turned and ran toward Krit's apartment block, shaking with pent-up tension as she climbed up to his second-storey bedroom window and let herself in. She saw him asleep in the bed, the moonlight over his face, more gorgeous than she'd remembered, and prowled toward him, bouncing onto the bed and straddling his hips, already kissing him hotly. His eyes snapped open and she felt him tense for a moment before realizing who it was and smiling against her lips. He inhaled her scent and his breathing became slightly shallow. 

"I've been expecting you for almost a week," he said, surprising her. He grabbed her shoulders and rolled them over. "You did say we were going to do this again and I knew you were due." Krit grinned down at her and she reached for his chin, bringing him down for another kiss as her other hand pulled hastily at her clothes. 

"You're certainly in a hurry tonight," he said, his eyes already darkening and his movements becoming quick and determined as the scent of her washed over him. 

"Krit," she managed, pressing a hand over his mouth as he opened it to say something more. He smiled against her fingers, nipped one. 

"What?" he asked, causing her to smile a little herself in spite of all the agitation she was feeling. 

"Shut the hell up." He grinned at her and helped her with his shirt. 

  
It was a heavy cycle this time, five days long, and for only the second time in her life, both with him, Syl didn't feel ashamed about what she was doing. They barely left the bed, and Krit ended up losing his job for not showing up or calling in. He swore to her that it was worth all of it, though.   



	10. Chapter 9

It was amazing that she didn't regret Krit either time. Syl hated sex, but most of all she hated her heat cycle. That's what had messed her up in the first place, made everything her fault so much that even now Zack couldn't erase it, no matter how much he tried. 

  
_"You know, it was me the first time." _

"You the first time what?" Zack asked. 

"The first time," she repeated. "With him." _She stared into her breakfast as Zack gazed at her from across the table. "I can't eat this," she said. "I'll just throw it up." _

"What are you talking about?" 

"My morning sickness, Zack," she hissed. "Have you forgotten?" 

"Eat," he said. She took a fork-full of his regimented 'If you're going to have this baby it's going to be healthy, dammit' meal plan crap. "I meant," Zack continued. "What are you talking about 'it was me the first time'?" Oh. 

_"Oh." She shrugged. "Never mind, forget I said anything." Then she started crying. She hated being pregnant, hated hormones. Zack waited for her to get a handle on herself. "Dammit," she said. _

"Tell me." It was almost an order, though she was gradually easing him off that particular tendency as she was so many others left over from Manticore, getting him to ask her to do things instead of just demanding, getting him to accept it when she said no. It had been three months since she'd convinced him to take her in, and they'd already lived in nine cities. She couldn't even remember where they were right now, or who they were watching out for. 

"You wouldn't understand," she said. Zack sighed; he'd been doing that a lot lately, she'd noticed. 

"Why not?" he asked; Syl threw her fork down, stood up, paced over to the window. 

"Because you're a guy, _Zack," she spat without turning around. "Because Manticore didn't do to you what they did to me." Something broke inside of her, something holding back everything she hadn't talked about for months, and she couldn't stop it. "You just don't know what it's like to be twelve years old and have this disgusting forty-year-old man look suddenly like the best thing in the world and you don't know why because no one's ever told you about sex or babies or any of that!" She was sobbing but she didn't care. "You don't know what it's like to throw yourself at him and for him not to stop you and you can hear your voice begging for more but it's not you and inside you're screaming, 'Get off me, get off me,_ get off me!' _And it_ hurts _because you're so little and he's so big and it _hurts. _It hurts and I can't stop it and I don't know why I'm acting like that, Zack, and it_ hurts!" 

_"Okay, Syl," he whispered, suddenly beside her, his arms around her. Pain was shooting through her hand; she looked down and it was bloody and the window was broken. Had she punched through it? She didn't even remember doing that. "Okay," Zack soothed her. "Shshsh, it's okay." _

"No, it's not _okay!" She twisted away from him, sent her undamaged fist toward his face in a real punch, not a half-assed one, not one Zack would have pulled when they were kids. He blocked it, and she started crying again when he didn't look at all angry. "It's not okay," she said. "It's not! Because it was me the first time! Don't you get it?" She rolled her eyes, clenched her fists. "No, of course you don't, because you're a_ guy. _You just can't_ know, _Zack, so don't even try! Just do me a favour and leave me the hell alone!" She hadn't meant it, was relieved when he knew that. _

"Maybe it was you the first time." His voice was soft, calming. "Maybe it was your heat, everything Manticore put inside you that you couldn't control. But that doesn't _mean that every other time was your fault, Syl. He knew you didn't want it after that one time. He should have stayed the hell away from you. It_ wasn't _your fault." How did he know that's what she'd been thinking, that she'd been blaming herself all this time? And what the hell was he talking about, 'It's not your fault'? Of course it was her fault, she'd initiated it, led him on. Why shouldn't he have thought she was his for the taking forever after that night? Of course it was her fault, Zack just loved her too much to see it. She shook her head at him, turned away. _

"Get away from me," she hissed. So he walked over, pulled her into his arms, and let her cry against him for as long as she needed to. 

  
"Syl?" Krit was calling her; he reached out, touched her back. She jumped. "Sorry." 

"It's okay," she said stiffly, playing with the bedspread, not looking at him. 

"I love you, Syl," he said suddenly. He reached for her and she rolled over, buried her face in his shoulder, smiled. "Do you love me?" he said in a jokey-whiny voice when she said nothing back. 

"Of course," she laughed, glancing up at him. Her smile faded as she caught the expression on his face, goofily happy. She frowned. 

"Not like that," she said, pulling back a little, suddenly afraid. "Don't fall in love with me, Krit." 

"I don't think I can stop it," he whispered as he leaned his face into her hair, his hands roving everywhere, trying to get her back in the mood. "I've been thinking about you every day since last time you were in Colorado. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind, Syl." She pulled away. 

"It's over," she said. "I'm not in heat anymore." 

"Who ever said that was a requirement?" he asked, low and throaty. His hands were making her skin warm against her will. She shuddered a little. 

"Don't," she said. 

"I'm head over heels, Syl." His lips found her shoulder, nipped it, not quite enough to draw blood. 

"Head over heels," she repeated, unable to stop her body from responding to him. Even if she wasn't in heat, she was still a woman. Part of her hated how her body warmed toward him, and part of her was frightened by how much she loved it. "That's an old expression," she said, trying to close herself off to him. She grabbed his hands, stopped his caresses, looked into his dark eyes. "Do you even know what it means?" He swept the hair off her cheek, smiled at her. She looked at him, his beautiful face, and was shocked to find herself considering allowing him to continue. She never would have dreamed of doing this before now, not again, not when she couldn't blame it on hormones and pheromones. But when she looked in his eyes and saw the love there, how much he wanted her. She wanted him, too. And it terrified her. 

"I didn't until right now," he answered her question, his voice soft and deep with passion. She sighed a little, stopped fighting, let him turn her face so he could kiss her again. 

"You're so sappy," she whispered as his hands stroked over her hot skin. Then she forced herself to pull back again, look at him gravely for a moment. "Don't fall in love with me," she said again, but he just smiled. She pressed her hands tensely against his shoulders to make her point. "I'm more complicated than you think I am, Krit." 

"I'm sure that's true," he breathed, nuzzling her neck. 

"Really," she said. "I'm complicated." Finally catching on to the seriousness of her tone he drew back, frowned. 

"Complicated in a good way?" 

"No," she said. "In a _bad_ way." He smiled a little. 

"Not possible," he teased. He was acting like a stupid teenager. _Oh, wait,_ she realized. _We are teenagers._

"Really," she forced out. 

"I'm falling for you, Syl," he said again. He put his hands on her shoulders, looked straight into her eyes, scaring her with the sureness in his gaze. "I'm in love with you," he said. "You can't change me." He reached for her again, pulled her close, his fingers threading through her blonde hair as her own hands finally responded, touching, caressing. It was like she was intoxicated but she hadn't had anything to drink. Her head was spinning. Maybe she was crazy, _loco_ as Miguel would say. But whatever it was, she didn't stop it. She didn't say anything more. And though she wouldn't have thought it was possible, sex with Krit was actually better when she wasn't in heat. 

Tears rolled down her cheeks afterward, though she told him like the first time that they were happy ones. Only they weren't, not now. She was crying because he hadn't taken her seriously when she'd said, _Don't fall in love with me, Krit._ But she had been serious, so serious she could have killed someone, only he hadn't seen it. She cried because he was right, she couldn't change him. Couldn't change herself. She cried because she was falling in love with him, too, and she didn't know how to stop it or even if she wanted to try.   



	11. Chapter 10

Syl stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, feeling wonderfully clean and refreshed. She opened the bathroom door and stepped out, nearly colliding with Krit. 

"Sorry," she said, moving past him, heading for his bedroom to put her clothes back on. He took her arm, looked at her. 

"I want to talk," he said. She glanced away, let out a small sigh. 

"Okay, just let me get dressed." She closed his bedroom door behind her, found her clothes, but they weren't in very good shape from having been torn off countless times. She searched through Krit's closet, found a plain t-shirt and some sweats with a drawstring that would fit her, though they hung several inches past her ankles. Syl had always been short. She found Krit in the living room, sitting on his sofa waiting for her. 

"Hey," she said, dropping down beside him, not looking at him. "You wanted to talk before I left?" 

"That was going to be my first question," he said heavily. "So you are leaving." 

"Yes, Krit," she said. "I told you, I don't-" She let her breath out in a frustrated sigh. "I can't stay here like you want me too, it wouldn't work." 

"Why not?" 

"Because it just wouldn't, Krit, you don't understand." 

"Then tell me what you're talking about. Why can't we just try?" Syl scrambled to think of something that would satisfy him, make him accept that she couldn't stay here, not only because she was scared of falling in love with him but for all the other reasons she didn't even want to get into. 

"Krit, you're my-" 

_"Don't,"_ he cut her off, angry. "Don't even try it, Syl, that's not fair." 

"But you are my brother," she said quietly. _Just let me go, Krit._

"Syl," he said, reaching for her hand. "I know this seems crazy, and maybe it is, but can't we try?" 

"No." She pulled away. 

"Why the hell not?" 

"Zack won't-" 

"Stop making excuses, he said he wanted us to live together himself!" 

"That was _before,"_ she said with an edge of annoyance. "I have a home now, Krit. I'm happy there. I have friends, a job." 

"Then I'll come and live with you," he said. "I wasn't lying when I said I was in lo-" 

"Don't," she hissed, stopping him by pressing her fingers to his lips. His eyes darkened and narrowed slightly, and he shoved her hand away, stood up. "Krit, please," she said. He stood there, arms crossed, not turning around. Syl sighed, got to her own feet, grabbed her jacket from the closet and stepped into her shoes. She opened the front door. 

"Krit," she said. "I'm going now." He didn't turn around. She sighed again, took a step through the door. 

"Wait," his voice came suddenly; he was beside her now. She looked into his dark eyes, wished she wasn't the one who'd inflicted the pain that was in them. 

"I'm sorry," she said. Krit touched her hair, pulled her into his arms. She hugged him, smiled, tried to pretend that they hadn't slept together, not when she was in heat but afterward when there was no excuse. She tried to pretend that he was still just her brother but when he pulled back he took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and tender and loving. She returned the kiss for an instant before pulling away. "Please don't do this to me," she said. 

"Tell me you don't love me," he said quietly. She let her breath out in a long sigh. 

"You know I love you," she said wearily. 

"Then stay," he said, taking both her hands. "Please." She looked up at his face, hesitated, panicked, started to pull away, hesitated again. Finally she released his hands and stepped through his door and out into the hallway of his building. His eyes flashed with pain as she backed away from him; he looked much older than eighteen. 

"I'm sorry," she said. She wiped angrily at a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "I'm sorry," she said again. "It's nothing to do with you. I love you. I do. I just- I'm complicated, like I said. In a bad way. Really, I'm screwed up. You don't want to bother with me." She laughed a little, tried to get him to stop staring at her and say something, anything. "I'm sorry. Just forget about it, okay?" _Forget about me._ "I'll see you sometime. I will. I promise." She glanced away, back at him, away again. He said nothing. "I'm sorry, Krit," she said again. 

"Where are you living?" he asked. She shook her head, glanced away. 

"Bye," she said softly, then turned and hurried toward the stairs, trying not to cry audibly. He didn't follow her. 

* * *

Summer faded into winter and the temperature finally dropped, just as Miguel had promised. One day in mid December Syl agreed to watch his kids while he took Mercedes out to dinner, and she was helping Tia with math homework when the phone rang. 

"Could you grab that?" she called to Dominic. 

"Hello?" she heard his young voice a moment later. "I'm not supposed to tell strangers my name. Yeah. Yeah." 

"Who is that?" Syl asked suspiciously. 

"Who's this?" Dominic asked, then giggled. _"I'm_ not a stranger!" Syl stood up, went to the phone, tousled the boy's hair as she took the receiver from him. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey there, Syl, it's been a while." 

"Zane. I was wondering when you'd call." It had been a few weeks since they'd spoken. Syl put her hand over the receiver for a moment. "Tia, let's take a five-minute break, okay?" The girl looked relieved and joined Josie and Mika in the other room. Dominic hung by Syl, staring up at her longingly. 

"Sweet kid," Zane said as she stood to pour a glass of juice. "He yours?" 

"Thanks, Syl," the boy chirped, taking the drink and rejoining his siblings. Syl sat back down in the chair. 

"No!" She forced out a small laugh. "Don't you think I would have mentioned that?" He laughed. 

"Anyway, what's new?" he asked. Syl's mind flashed to the last time she'd seen Krit, the confrontation with him, the way he'd looked, heartbroken. 

"Nothing," she said. 

"Yeah, me too, things have been slow around here lately." 

"What about your latest girl? Um... I can't remember her name." 

"Who, Caeda? Or do you mean Leslie?" 

"Was that the one who answered that time?" 

"Oh, no, that was Angie," he said. Syl rolled her eyes at him. 

"You've certainly made yourself at home down there." 

"Hey, come on, you make me sound like a player or something, Syl." She could hear the blush in his voice. "What can I say, people find me irresistible. I seem to remember a certain someone sounding like she wanted to leap through the phone at me once." Syl flushed crimson. 

"Not fair," she complained. Zane laughed a little. 

"Listen, are we still on for New Year's?" 

"New Year's?" She tried to remember when they'd talked about that. 

"Oh, sorry, I guess I never told you. I'm coming up to your place for New Year's. Or you can come down here. Whatever." 

"Is that a fact?" She rolled her eyes at Zane affectionately. 

"And Brin," he said. 

"Yeah? That sounds great. I haven't seen our Brinny Brin in years." She smiled at the pet name. 

"What about Krit, haven't you been in contact with him? Maybe he'd want to-" 

"No," she said. "No, I don't think so. Tinga, I've been in contact with, she might want to come." 

"Okay," he said, sounding a little confused, but he let it go. "I'd like to see her kid." 

"He's beautiful." 

"Zack will get mad at us if it gets too big, though," he said. "We'll have to be tactful about it." 

"I'll handle Zack if he tries to ruin our fun." 

"We could invite him." 

"Oh, I will. But he won't come." 

"Of course not." 

"Yeah." 

"Well Zane, I've got kids over. I'm watching them for my neighbours tonight and I should really go spend some time with them." 

"Okay, sounds good, Syl." 

"I'll talk to you later." 

"Bye." 

"Bye, Zane." She hung up the phone, smiled at the thought of seeing Brin again. Maybe Zack would come. "Yeah, right," she said under her breath. She considered, for a moment, inviting Krit, then shook that thought away. 

"Syl!" Dominic called from the living room. "Come here, come see what we made!" 

"Okay," she said, smiling, heading toward the children, shaking thoughts of Krit away. This was home now, and she wasn't going to live with him, wasn't going to let herself fall in love with him. Things were just better that way for everyone. Even if she did want a relationship with Krit, and part of her did, she'd only end up wrecking it anyway like every other romance of her life.   



	12. Chapter 11

Syl drove to Los Angeles that Monday, New Year's Eve, and found the apartment Zane had directed her to. He pulled open the door as soon as she knocked, grinning and pulling her into a hug. Brin was standing beside him and the two women squealed, throwing themselves at each other. It had been almost four years since Syl had last seen Brin. 

  
_Someone was kissing her, she realized as she slowly came out of the haze off sleep. Her entire body stiffened and she panicked, thinking in the disoriented time just before waking up that she was back_ there, _with_ him. _Then she remembered that it had been almost two years since Zack had taken her away from there, over four months since the child had been born and gone. So who was this kissing her now? _

Syl opened her eyes; it was hard to tell who it was in the darkness of the bedroom with his face so close to hers. She could feel his body pressed against hers, the thin blanket separating them. She put her hands against his shoulders to shove him away but suddenly realized she was pulling him closer instead, responding to his deep kisses, revelling in the feeling of his hands on her face. 

That's when she realized that it was happening again, what hadn't happened since the first confusing night she had slept with the man who now haunted her nightmares. Syl's hands started shaking even as she sighed with pleasure against hot lips, ran her fingers through soft hair, down over strong shoulders. The guy pulled away a little suddenly; Syl looked up at him, tried to stop herself from crying out at the sudden loss of warmth, found his eyes in the darkness. Her heart froze. 

"Zack?" She meant for it to come out as a horrified gasp, but it emerged from her lips in a low, seductive purr. He looked scared and confused somewhere in the back of his eyes, but most of his gaze was pure animal desire and she thought she would faint with pleasure to see that. Her hands rose unbidden to the back of his head, pulled him down for another kiss. Part of her mind was struggling to understand how he had known, why he wasn't stopping what she knew from past experience that she herself couldn't. 

Then it occurred to her that it was Manticore who had done this to her, and somehow it affected him the same way. She felt moisture on her cheeks and realized even as she pulled him closer that she was crying. One of her tears pooled in the groove above her lips and Zack felt it on his tongue, forced himself to pull back. She could tell he was using a lot of restraint not to just take her right there, just as much as she herself was using. She kept crying, afraid that neither of them would be able to control themselves but wanting it just as much as she didn't. Zack's hands came up against her shoulders, holding them; he wasn't meeting her eyes now and she was glad, because if he did look at her she was sure they'd both be lost. 

"Syl," he said; his voice was strangled with both desire and anguish, but to her dismay that just made her want him more. 

"I don't understand," she said, her own voice shaking with her tears. Zack pulled back a little from her, both relieving and frustrating her. He ran a hand through his hair; she was glad to see he was still fully clothed. 

"How many times have I had to explain this?" he muttered to himself; he ran a hand through his hair again. He was staring at the wall, the bedspread, the floor, anywhere but at her. 

"Explain what?" she asked, then panicked as she realized her hands were reaching for him again, and she was sitting up, pulling him toward her. He tried to resist, she could tell, but she held his face in her hands and as soon as their lips touched he wasn't fighting anymore. He pinned her to the bed, his hands roving everywhere. The tears came once more even as she grabbed at his shirt, trying to pull it off. Zack's hands were caressing her face as he kissed her, stroking her cheeks softly. He felt her tears again and paused, pulled away. There was a moment's silence where nothing happened, and then Syl reached for him again, trying to find his lips with her own. Since he wasn't doing it, she started to pull her own shirt over her head, tried to guide his hands against her burning skin. For a moment he did, kissing her hotly, caressing her. Then he jerked away, fists clenched, obviously working very hard to control himself. 

"Don't, _Syl," he bit out, squeezing his eyes shut as she reached for him once more. She wanted to listen, but her hands caressed his arms, pulled again at the hem of his shirt, grabbed for his pajama bottoms. A sudden sharp pain and stinging against her cheek was the only indication that he'd hit her. _

They sat there in the darkness, staring at each other, for almost a full minute. Zack's still-raised hand was shaking; she could see the feelings chasing themselves through his eyes, the horrible guilt for hitting her and relief that it had stopped her advances. Her heart broke for him even as her desire took over again. Syl felt herself smiling seductively at him, watched her hand reach for him again. It was his fist that struck her jaw this time, harder; she went reeling, smacked against the wall. She turned to him, wide-eyed, but he was on top of her almost immediately, his lips hot against hers, and for a few blissful moments she didn't care. But with a surge of sanity she didn't think she had she flipped him over on his back and punched him hard in the face, snapping his head to the side. Then she kissed him, crying, trying to stop herself. They traded blows and kisses for several moments. 

"Syl," Zack said finally, his voice pained, and he hit her again, shoved her off him. She fell onto the floor, crying, attempting to climb back up with him even as her mind screamed not to. He took the moment of brief coherent thought and jumped out of the bed, running to the door. She saw him hesitate, knew he wanted to come back to see if she was okay, to apologize for hitting her, knew that it was killing him inside even now and would do so worse later. She laid on the floor, sobbing, and prayed to a God she didn't believe in that he wouldn't turn around. 

He didn't. He left the room, left their apartment, and two hours later Brin was there to keep her from attacking her male neighbours. That's when it was explained to her what Manticore had done, not only to herself, but to Brin and all their sisters, why she had acted the way she did to Zack just then, and to her foster uncle two years before, and why her own brother had responded. Oddly, the explanation didn't help anything at all, didn't make anything better or make any of her demons go away. 

  
Zack returned a week later, and Brin left. He stood in the apartment doorway, looking hurt, dejected, anguished. He stared at her, at the bruises still fading on her face. Syl glanced up from the book she was reading and she could tell he hadn't thought he'd hit her that hard. Fear gripped her as he turned to leave. 

"Zack," she said, jumping up, hurrying over to him. "It's okay, I'm fine. Really." He turned to her, not meeting her eyes, his own full of guilt. 

"I would never-" he said, broke off, gathered himself. "I would never- to any of you, Syl... I wouldn't do anything to hurt-" He swallowed hard. "I'd rather die than-" 

"I hit you, too," she reminded him gently. She didn't like that they weren't touching; it was strange and unnerving. She wanted to hug him. Zack shook his head. 

"I'm sorry, Syl," he said. She reached her arms up, pulled him into an embrace. 

"Brin explained everything. I'm glad you left." 

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way," he said, not making any move to let her go. "I should have told you before. I thought you knew." 

"You told Brin the first time?" she asked softly; his body stiffened for a moment. 

"Yeah," he said. "And some of the others." He pulled away. Syl smiled at him, reached up to run her fingers through his hair, against his scalp, the only action that had ever comforted him when they were children and he was angry or upset. He smiled a little then, looked a bit less guilty, calmer. 

"So you're home now?" she asked softly. 

"Yeah," he said, finally closing the front door behind him. He glanced around the place uncomfortably, as though they hadn't been living together for nearly two years. His eyes fell on the kitchen and he smiled at her again. "Why don't I make us lunch?" Syl returned the smile, touched his hand. 

"Sounds good." 

  
"It's great to see you, Syl," Brin said now, holding her warmly. She smiled and pulled back. 

"You too." Syl surveyed Zane's apartment. "Zack found you a nice place," she said. "Told you." 

"Yeah. Thanks." 

"So, I take it you've kicked all your various girls out for the duration of our stay?" she asked, winking at him. He flushed slightly. 

"Hey, I've got you two, isn't that enough?" he teased, eliciting good-natured smiles and rolled eyes from both his sisters. Syl fell onto Zane's couch and waited for his dog to come over and lick her face. Then she remembered that his dog-buying hadn't exactly gone as planned this time. 

"We should get you a puppy while we're here," she said, smiling at Brin. Zane's face lit up. 

"You should!" 

"We'll see," Brin said. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. 

"Tinga's not coming?" Syl asked. Zane shook his head. 

"She's moving," he said. His sisters paled. 

"Did Zack-" 

"No, no, it was her husband's idea," he said quickly, smiling as they relaxed. "Apparently he's always wanted to live in Portland." They nodded, relieved. 

"So what's new, Brinny?" Syl asked, turning to her. "It's been a long time." 

"Yeah," she said, then, "But surprisingly not much. I've been with this guy for the past two years. Our anniversary's coming up." She had a happy smile on her face. 

"Greg," Zane supplied. 

"Does he know...?" Syl trailed off and Brin sighed a little. 

"Of course not. You're looking at Brianna Campbell, my friends." 

"Yeah, she's even got the fake name going on," Zane said, smiling sadly. 

"Yeah, he met me when I'd just changed identities to get out of Michigan." She waved her hand at Syl's questioning look wearily. "Long story." Syl smiled at her, knowing how that felt. "Have you heard from Zack?" Brin asked next. Whenever a group of them got together, conversation ultimately turned to Zack and the others. 

"Not for a few weeks," Syl said. 

"I haven't seen him in almost a year," Zane added. 

"Me neither," Brin said. She looked at Syl. "You have the most contact with him out of all of us. How is he?" 

"He's good. Worried, as usual, but good." 

"About Ben?" 

"About a lot of things," Syl said. She sighed. "Ben's a big one." 

"I heard," Brin said. "Krit told me." 

"Things go quickly through the grapevine," Syl remarked. 

"I think he saw the news, actually." 

"The thing I don't get," Zane said. "Is that if Ben was all over the news, why didn't Lydecker get wind of it?" 

"He's lucky he wasn't hauled back to Manticore," Brin said worriedly. Syl got to her feet and went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She knew why Lydecker hadn't taken Ben; he had got wind of it, Zack had just managed to deflect him. But all that was secret. In the kitchen she heard Brin add softly, "Maybe the Blue Lady is watching over him like he thinks." 

"Amen, Ben," Zane said quietly. Syl came back into the room, sat down. 

"I don't want to talk about her," she said. The other two looked at her with heavy eyes. 

"Me neither," Zane answered. Brin nodded. 

"Tell me something happy," she said, leaning back into the sofa and closing her eyes. Syl thought for a moment, failed to come up with anything positive. Zane started talking about his latest love interest- "We're going to get married, I _know_ it."- and Syl was amused but not surprised to hear that the identity of the girl had changed since last they'd spoken. She smiled a little into her water. 

"Speaking of Krit," Brin said after Zane was done praising his girlfriend to the heavens. "I invited him." Syl choked. 

"Are you okay?" Zane asked, giving her a strange look. She set her water down, looked at Brin. 

"You invited him?" she repeated. 

"Yes..." Brin glanced at Zane. "Why, are we mad at him?" He shrugged. 

"I'm not." 

"No, I'm not mad," Syl said. She stood up, crossed her arms, glanced out Zane's window uncomfortably. "It's just..." She turned back, saw her siblings' confused expressions. She sighed. "Nothing. It's fine. Don't worry about it, Brin. When's he coming?" 

"I don't know, he said he'd be here as soon as possible." Syl nodded, played with her hands. 

"Did you say I was here?" 

"Um... yeah, I think I mentioned it." 

"Ah." 

"Syl, what's wrong, did you two get in a fight or something?" Zane asked; Syl laughed a little without humour. 

"I wish," she said. She saw her brother and sister exchange a look and forced a smile. "Really, it's okay guys, it's my problem, not yours." 

"But is it going to be weird?" Brin asked. 

"Nope, _Brianna,_ don't worry your pretty self," Syl joked. "I'm an adult, I can handle it." Brin rolled her eyes at her. 

"I'm offended," she said. 

"Anyway," Zane said. "Even if you are mad at him, he's your brother. You can't hold a grudge against him for too long, right?" 

"But what makes him my brother?" Syl asked after a moment. Brin and Zane looked at each other again, glanced at Syl. There was a short silence. 

"Well... Manticore, I guess," Zane answered her question finally. 

"I don't want to define my relationships by that place," Syl said, annoyed. 

"How about love, then?" Brin had always been the philosopher of the family, the profound one. "Why are you asking this?" Syl mumbled something. "What?" 

"I said, 'Because Krit doesn't exactly feel like my brother anymore.'" 

"Oh," Zane said, glanced at Brin for the third time in ten minutes. 

"Stop doing that, you're making me feel like I'm on trial," Syl hissed. 

"So... what happened?" 

"What do you think?" she snapped. "Sorry." 

"Don't obsess about-" Brin began. 

"I've already gotten that lecture from Zack," she cut her off. 

"Zack talks to you about... stuff?" Zane asked, eyes wide. Syl laughed a little in spite of how annoyed she was feeling. She shrugged, nodded. 

"Sometimes." 

"Good," Brin said. "He needs that." 

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Zane said heavily. "If you and Krit are something different now that's fine with me, Syl." 

"And me," Brin added. 

"Tell us about Max," Zane said, surprising her. 

"You know she's out?" 

"Yeah." 

"I didn't," Brin said, smiling. "Our little Maxie. I'm so glad." 

"She's okay. Zack doesn't talk to her." 

"Why not?" 

"I don't know," Syl admitted. "He's different with her." 

"Maybe he's having a similar problem to you, Syl," Zane said quietly. They all sat there for a few moments, trying to imagine Zack having romantic issues. 

"Maybe," she said, finding that Zane's explanation actually made some sense to how Zack had been acting about Max. She made a mental note to ask him about it next time she saw him. 

"This party is depressing," she remarked. 

"Yeah," Brin agreed. She glanced at Zane. "Got any alcohol?" 

"I've got champagne, but that's for midnight," he said. "Beer?" 

"Yeah." 

"Syl?" 

"No thanks, I'll just stick with water." 

"Okay," he said. After he stood and went into the kitchen the front door opened and Krit walked in. Syl forced herself to look at him, smiled a bit. Brin got to her feet and headed for the kitchen, hugging Krit on the way. He and Syl just stared at each other. 

"Zane, you know what I'd really like?" they heard Brin's voice from the next room. "Wine." 

"I have wine." 

"No, you _don't,_ not the kind I like." 

"Try me," Zane answered, oblivious; Syl heard a cupboard open. "What kind do you like?" 

"I like wine from Iceland." 

"What? Iceland doesn't-" The rest of his sentence was cut off as Brin shoved him out the front door and shut it behind them, leaving Krit standing in the entranceway and Syl alone in the living room. 

"That was smooth," she forced out. 

"Yeah," Krit said. He walked in, sat in the furthest chair from her. "Syl-" 

"Don't," she said. "Let me go first." 

"Okay." 

"I'm sorry. I meant what I said, but I'm sorry if it hurt you." 

"I haven't been able to get you out of my mind." 

"Well do it. Use the technique if you have to," she said dryly. He was scaring her, his dark eyes boring into hers, making her jumpy. He frowned. 

"That's not funny," he said. She let her breath out in a long sigh. 

"Nothing is," she said quietly, then forced herself to look at him. "Why did you come?" 

"I want to know what's going on with you," he said, coming and sitting next to her. She found the closeness of his body comforting but a little frightening as well. 

"What do you mean?" she managed. 

"Everything you said, that whole thing with Steve, it's got me thinking and I think there's something really wrong here, Syl. Something's going on that I don't know about and I want to know what it is. There's something you haven't told me, isn't there? Just say so if I'm wrong." Syl said nothing. "Okay, so what is it then?" 

"You don't want to go there, Krit," she said, glanced away. His hand was firm against her cheek, forcing her to look at him. 

"Yes I do." 

"Well I don't!" she said, and jerked away from him, standing up. "You shouldn't have come." 

"I haven't seen Zane in a year. It's been longer for Brin. I came to talk to you, Syl, but I also come because I want to be part of this family." 

"If that's true," she said softly after a long moment, not looking at him. "Then I'm asking you as a sister not to ask me any more questions." He stood up. 

"And I'm asking you as someone who loves you- _more_ than as a brother- to let me help you." 

"You can't help me," she hissed. "It's all in the past and I don't want it to come back again, okay? It's done. I'm fine with that and I'm not dredging it all up again." 

"You're not fine," he said gently. "Syl, you consistently seek out guys who hit you. You cringe anytime anyone touches you. That's not 'fine.'" 

"Shut up." 

"I'm worried about you." 

"Yippee." 

"If you tell me what all of this is about maybe I can help you work through it. You need to talk about it with _someone."_

"On it," she said, turning back to him. "Zack." Krit looked hurt. 

"Oh," he said, glancing away. His face hardened slightly. "You know I could find out if I wanted to." 

"Try it," she said, laughing a little though his words had frightened her. "There's nothing to find." He just gazed at her. 

"I already found something," he said finally, softly. She froze, looked into his dark eyes. She couldn't speak. She watched as he pulled a file folder out, put it down in front of her on the coffee table. It was several minutes before she could pick it up. She flipped it open, looked down at the face of a young boy with sandy-blond hair and no smile. A mugshot. 

"Zack," she said. Why was Krit showing her this? 

"Michael Hanover," he answered. 

"Yes, I know. He told me about this. Armed robbery. He was trying to steal tryptophan from a pharmacy." What was Krit's point? 

"I did a search on the name," he said. She raised her eyes to his, confused. He looked so sad. "2011, a Sylvia Hanover was taken to an emergency room by her brother Michael." Syl dropped the file folder, her hands shaking too much to hold it anymore. She took a step back from Krit without meaning to. "She was given an examination and treatment would have started if there hadn't been an altercation soon afterward," he pressed on despite her obvious protest. She wanted him to stop talking, or at least stop using that low, soothing voice. 

  
_Syl burst out of the examination room, tears streaming down her cheeks. She saw Zack talking with someone, ran and collapsed against him, sobbing. _

"I can't do it," she whispered into his shoulder. 

"What did she do to you?" Zack asked, his voice full of anger at the nurse Syl had run from. 

"Sylvia," the woman said, walking slowly over, holding a small pill in her hand and a glass of water. "It's important that you take this." 

"What is that?" Zack asked, low. 

"It's a morning after pill," the nurse explained, and Zack stiffened. Syl realized he hadn't even considered that; she certainly hadn't. 

"Take it, Syl," he said; she pulled back, stared up at him. 

"But- I wouldn't be any better than-" She stopped, remembering they were in mixed company, lowered her voice. "Than him." 

_"Take it, Syl," he said firmly. His voice softened. "You're thirteen years old." He took the pill and the water from the nurse and held them out to her. Syl's lower lip started trembling. _

"I- I don't want to." This was wrong. 

"You don't have to," the woman Zack had been talking to said gently, moving toward them. Syl realized she was a social worker. "It's completely up to you," she said. "If you are pregnant there's always adoption, or-" 

"No," Zack cut her off, turning back to Syl. He took her hand and put the pill into it. "Take it." It was small and evil in her palm. 

"Michael," the social worker said. "You can't force-" 

"I am ordering _you to take this pill," Zack said, ignoring the woman. Tears slipped down Syl's cheeks, but she dropped the pill into her mouth and took the water, swallowing through her sobs. "Open your mouth," Zack said gently. Syl did as he said, showing him that she hadn't faked it. He nodded, put a hand soothingly on her shoulder. "It's what's best for you," he said softly as she cried. _

"Take Sylvia to get something to eat," the social worker said to the nurse, her voice sharp with anger. Syl was led away, crying, from Zack. "Tell me the truth, Michael," she heard the social worker say. "What's really going on here?" Her voice was significantly less friendly. Syl paused, uncertain. 

"What are you talking about?" he asked, turning back toward his sister, not wanting her out of his sight. "Syl-" 

"How did she get those bruises on her face?" the social worker cut him off as Syl stopped in the hallway, responding to Zack's suspicious voice, not letting the nurse take her away. "Did you hit her?" she asked; Zack's fists clenched in anger. 

"No!" Syl said, trying to hurry back over. Then nurse held her back. "No, he didn't hit me!" 

"Did he tell you to say that?" The social worker asked softly. "You don't have to be afraid anymore, we'll help you." 

"Syl, come here," Zack ordered, his voice slightly panicked. 

"Let go of me," Syl said, struggling with the woman. She broke away, came to Zack. He turned away from the nurse and social worker but halted as he saw a security guard approaching from the other side. 

"You're making a mistake," he said angrily. "We haven't done anything wrong." 

"I've seen this before," the social worker said. "It's okay, Sylvia, if your brother-" 

"Shut up!" Syl yelled. "He hasn't hurt me! He wouldn't!" 

"Don't bother with them, Syl," Zack said. "They can't understand." 

"You seem to like giving orders, Michael," the nurse said coldly. 

"I've called the police," the guard informed her as he walked to Zack. His hand dropped onto Syl's shoulder but Zack smacked it off, backing her away from him. 

"We'll be able to find a nice home for you, Sylvia," the social worker said. "Come here. You won't have to be afraid anymore." Syl looked at Zack, eyes wide with fear, clutching at his hand. 

"Don't let them take me," she whispered. 

  
"Syl?" Krit called her back. "Did you hear me?" 

"Why are you doing this?" 

"The records are sealed but I can break into them with some time." 

"Don't," she breathed. 

"Why did you go to that hospital? Why don't you want me to look?" 

"Because I'm asking you not to," she whispered, her voice shaking. 

"As a sister?" 

"As whatever the hell you want me to be, Krit!" 

"You know what I want you to be." 

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, Krit, just please leave this alone!" Her whole body was shaking. "Please, please leave this alone, okay?" 

"Let me in, then." 

"You're trying to make me tell you by _threatening_ me?" 

"I'm trying to get through to you that I care and no matter what it is I'm going to be there for you!" 

"I told you, I don't want to go there!" she cried. "Just don't do it, Krit. _Please."_ He gazed at her for a long time. 

"I'm going home now," he said softly. "I thought you might think we were worth trying." He was angry. "Obviously not." 

"You don't understand." 

"No," he snapped. "I guess not." He glanced at the file. "You can keep that. I'm not going to look if you don't want me to." He turned and left her sobbing in Zane's living room. 

"I hate you," she whispered as he walked to the door, opened it. "I hate you so much." He glanced back, a tear on his cheek. 

"I love you," he said softly, then left. The door shut. Syl took the folder with shaky hands and burned it on Zane's stove. 

"I hate you," she said again as she watched his violation turn into ashes, Zack's young face watching her from the counter, spared from the fire. "I hate you, I hate you," she whispered through her tears. "I hate you." Maybe if she said it enough times it would be true.   



	13. Chapter 12

Syl had already been seizing for ten minutes by the time Zane and Brin got back. Stress always brought them on for her and she hadn't managed to make it from the bathroom where she was when it started to the kitchen where she knew Zane would keep his tryptophan. Now she was huddled in on herself in the hall outside Zane's bedroom, hugging her knees, convulsing, sweaty, cold, unable even to cry out when she heard the front door open. 

"... me put away these things," she heard Brin say, her voice sounding strange and muddled to Syl's pounding ears. 

"I still can't believe... this much food. My fridge... loaded." 

"Your fridge is loaded with boy stuff," Brin chided; they were nearer now. "As in leftover takeout that's too old. Besides, we had to do something while those two had their big talk." 

"What's this?" 

"What?" 

"Zack. He's little." 

"Aw, how cute, look at that face." 

"He looks serious." 

"Well, he's Zack," Brin said. "Syl must have brought it." 

"Where are they anyway?" Zane asked. 

"Maybe they adjourned to the bedroom," Brin said in a snobby English accent. Zane laughed. 

"Syl!" he called. "Krit!" She heard his voice getting louder, cringed as a few especially painful convulsions wracked her body. She heard Zane's footsteps just around the corner. "Where did you guys- Oh, God." 

"What?" Brin called; Syl felt Zane drop to his knees beside her and his hands were on her shoulders immediately, gently prying her grip away from her legs. 

"Syl?" he asked softly. "Can you hear me?" She opened her eyes to see his worried face, forced a wavering smile and tried to speak to him, but no words could get past the chattering of her teeth. Zane scooped her quickly into his arms. 

"Brin!" he called as he hurried her back into the living room. "Tryptophan now, please!" Zane sat Syl on the sofa and reached out a hand to steady her as she almost fell over, convulsing violently. Brin was next to her instantly, pushing several pills into her hand and standing ready with a glass of milk. Syl almost couldn't get the pills down, but finally managed to and took a relieved sip of the white liquid. Zane smoothed the hair off her damp face and glanced at Brin worriedly. 

"Where the hell is Krit?" he muttered. 

"He's gone," Syl managed as the seizure subsided a little. "He's not coming back." She started shaking even more, thinking about what had happened. 

"Okay, don't get worked up," Brin soothed. "Lie down." Syl did as her sister asked, let Brin tuck a blanket around her shuddering body. She smiled weakly at them. 

"You know I'll be fine," she said. "It's not your fault you were out." 

"Zane," Brin said. "Help me with these groceries." 

"Okay," he answered, giving Syl a tense smile before heading back into the kitchen with Brin. She was relieved that her sister had remembered she hated to be seen as vulnerable. 

  
_"What's wrong?" he asked; she faced away from him, rifling through the kitchen cupboard for something to eat. _

"Nothing." 

"Are you nauseous again?" 

"It'll pass." 

"This is the third morning in a row. Maybe there's something wrong with you. Food poisoning-" 

"Zack, it's not food poisoning," Syl hissed, turning to him where he was sitting on the sofa about to make a call. He frowned. 

"What is it then?" 

"Zack-" She stopped, bit her lip, put a hand over her flat stomach without meaning to. "I think..." She trailed off, turned away. "Never mind," she said quietly. After a moment she heard the phone being set back on its cradle. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." 

"Syl." 

"I just thought-" She turned back to him, wrung her hands together, swallowed. Then she started crying. Zack hesitated, waited for her to compose herself, which took a minute or two. "I thought maybe I should get..." She turned away from him, whispered, "A pregnancy test." There was a long silence. 

"You didn't take the pill?" he asked quietly. He didn't sound angry and she was glad. 

"I did _take the pill," she said. "Maybe it didn't work." _

"Those things cover 36 hours," he said slowly. "You said you'd only been with him for one when I showed up." 

"One hour that _day," she whispered. Zack frowned again, struggled with that for a moment. She could see his mind working, could see him kicking himself for the assumption that had been his flaw in planning the mission of not letting Syl get pregnant. He had assumed that he'd saved her the first time it had happened, but in truth it had been going on for months before he came along. She waited for him to yell but it didn't happen. _

"Do you really think...?" He trailed off, stood up, ran a hand through his hair. He grabbed his car keys. "Okay, I'll get you one." 

"Get two," she said quietly, raising her eyes to his reluctantly. "I want to be sure." 

"Okay," he said. "Good idea." He grabbed his jacket. 

"You're going now?" 

"Don't you want to find out?" 

"I'm afraid to find out," she whispered, hugging herself. Zack put a tentative hand on her shoulder but she stiffened, so he withdrew it. "No," she said. "It's okay." He took her hand, squeezed it. 

"I'll be back in a little while," he said. 

"Okay," she answered softly, watched him leave. She locked the door behind him and dropped onto the sofa to wait for him to return, wishing that she didn't already know what the result of the tests would be. 

  
"You feeling better, little sister?" Brin asked softly, touching Syl's face and startling her suddenly out of her reverie. "Sorry." 

"I'm okay," Syl said; her shaking had almost completely stopped now and she was exhausted. Zane and Brin, sitting in two chairs facing her sofa, exchanged a concerned glance. "Really," Syl said. "I'm fine. Good thing you walked in." 

"Yeah," Zane said gravely. 

"What happened with Krit?" Brin asked gently. Syl sat up, fought back dizziness, shrugged. Brin held up Zack's picture. "Did he bring this?" 

"Yeah." Syl smiled at the photograph, took it from her sister. "He was so little." 

"It must have been right after the escape," Zane said. 

"Yeah, he told me 2010," Syl answered. She put the picture down. "I'm hungry. And tired." 

"We bought food," Zane said. "But you can't go to sleep. We still have to ring in the new year with champagne." 

"I don't drink." 

"Come on," Brin said. "Make an exception. For us?" 

"Ugh," Syl grunted, but smiled. "Okay, a little champagne. What time is it?" 

"Time for dinner," Zane said, rubbing his hands together. "What should we eat?" 

"What do we have?" 

"Ask Brin, she's the one who bought it all," Zane complained. "I can't even remember half the things you got." 

"Liar," Brin said. "You remember everything." 

"I've chosen to forget all that healthy stuff you carted in here." He cringed as though 'healthy stuff' was an unimaginable horror. Syl laughed at him, went into the kitchen with Brin to start dinner. She heard Zane dialling the phone in the next room and listened with one ear to what he was saying without meaning to, Brin doing the same. It was hard not to perform surveillance even when they were doing something as safe and un-Manticore as making vegetarian chilli, which is what Brin had settled on. 

"Why vegetarian?" Syl asked. "I like my meat." 

"I'm a Buddhist," Brin explained. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah." 

In the next room they heard Zane say, "Okay, it's Monday night. I'm alive, all's well, apartment's nice by the way, you should come see me. I'm also checking in for Brin and Syl-" He called out, "Right?" 

"Right!" Brin called back. 

"Because like I told you they're here for New Year's," Zane continued. "Drop by if you're anywhere in the area." He hung up, added, "Yeah, right," under his breath, and joined his sisters in the kitchen. 

"Vegetarian?" he asked when they'd explained what they were making. "What, you mean like no animal? No iron? No blood?" 

"Ick," Brin said, then handed him a frying pan. "Here, if you want to grab a pound of hamburger and fry it up you can stick it in your share of the chilli." 

"Sounds good." 

"Syl and I," Brin said. "Are going to be _healthy." _

  
"It's just not healthy." 

"But this is how I want to do it, I want to have my baby at home," Syl insisted. No bloodwork, no medical history, nothing that would lead back to Manticore. Beside her Zack nodded, but the midwife shook her head. 

"I'm sorry, but you should have thought of that before you got pregnant at such a young age," she said, giving Syl's large stomach a disdainful look, making her stiffen. 

"I'll remember to say that next time I'm being raped," she said bitterly. Both Zack and the woman cringed for different reasons. 

"I'm... sorry," the midwife said slowly. "But you have to understand that I can't deliver your baby this way. Especially if you've been raped. I assume you had surgery to repair damage? Cuts, tears, that sort of thing?" Syl glanced away from the woman, made a face, shrugged. 

"That's right," Zack answered for her anyway. 

"Okay," the midwife said, turning to him as Syl continued to not meet her eyes. "Home birth is not recommended for someone who's undergone that kind of physical trauma, especially if it happened this recently. There might be complications that could even lead to internal haemorrhaging and possibly death." Syl squirmed a little as the woman continued, "Even without the rape or the surgery, she's very small. Ideally she should deliver by caesarean in a hospital where they can give emergency care if its needed. Blood transfusions, that sort of thing." 

"So you're saying no one _will homebirth this baby?" Syl asked flatly. _

"Oh, someone _will, for the right price," the woman answered, her voice scornful. "But I'm telling you that in my medical opinion you need to go to a hospital to have this child. If you don't there's a chance that one or both of you could die." _

Outside, Zack and Syl walked in silence toward the car. Finally she couldn't stand it and turned to him heavily. He glanced at her, spoke first. 

"It's okay, I'll figure it out. I'll get some fake histories and try to convince them that I know you and I have the same blood type. If they still insist on a workup or if they find out anything else we'll be long gone before Lydecker gets wind of it, I'll make sure." 

"Zack," she said. "I don't want to lose this baby." 

"I should have made you have an abortion." 

"Please don't start that again." 

"I'm just saying." 

"Well don't." 

"Okay." 

"I don't' want to lose this baby," she said again. 

"You won't. We didn't go this far to have the kid die, Syl." 

"I'm scared." 

"Understandable," he said as they slid into the car. He didn't make a move to start it. 

"You know, you're nothing like Lydecker." 

"Thanks." 

"I know you worry about it." 

"You're not going to lose the baby, Syl." 

"Sure I am," she said softly, not looking at him. "I'm going to give it up." Zack stiffened. 

"We talked about that," he said, reaching over to start the car. She put her hand on his arm to stop him; he obeyed but said nothing. 

"Zack?" There was no answer. "Zack." 

"What?" 

"I want to keep it." 

"No." 

"Zack-" 

"You're thirteen, Syl," he said firmly, staring out at the rain that had started falling outside, not looking at her. "You're not ready to raise a baby and neither am I." 

"Then I'll raise it on my own." 

"No, Syl." 

"But I never had a mother." She was crying now; she wanted him to look at her. "This baby deserves one." 

"You won't be depriving it of that. Families are always wanting to adopt." 

"What if it's a girl? How do you know they won't hurt her like they hurt me?" There was a long silence. 

"They won't," he said finally. 

"But how can I know they won't?" 

"I'm telling you they won't, Syl." 

"You told me that we would be safe out here, that I would be happy," she said softly. He visibly cringed but she didn't take her words back because they were true. "You promised, _Zack." His car door suddenly opened. "It's rain-" she started, but he was already out, the door slamming shut behind him. She wondered momentarily if he was going to leave her here in this parking lot and never come back, but the thought passed almost immediately. She wiped away the fog from their warm breath on the cold window and saw him standing a few feet away, kicking at a stone, letting the rain fall on his head and not caring. She frowned, wrung her hands together over her large stomach. Finally she leaned over to open his door and the rain pelted in at her. _

"Zack!" she called. "Come back already!" He didn't move. 

"Close the door, Syl," he said, something gravelly in his voice- was it anger or sadness? She couldn't tell. "It's cold out here." She closed it and then got out of the passenger door instead, walked over to him through the rain, stopped just behind him. It took so long for him to turn to her that she was sure his jaw would be tensed with anger when he finally did. Instead she found sorrow and even a little understanding in his blue eyes. And love. And guilt. 

"You're nothing like Lydecker," she said again. His face was streaked with rain, as was her own, but they both had much slower reaction times to the cold than normal humans. 

"I'll look out for her, Syl, if you want me to," he said softly, after so long that she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it. The wind whipped his words away so fast that she almost didn't hear him. Then she started crying, her tears mixing with the rain until she didn't know which was which anymore. He just stared at her, sadly. He was right, she couldn't raise a baby. And even if she could, would she want that constant reminder right in front of her every day of what had happened to her? She put on a small smile, looked up at him after a long moment. 

"I think that would make me happy," she said quietly. He nodded. 

"Then I'll do it until you ask me to stop."   



	14. Chapter 13

"So how is it that me and Zane both live here in LA," Brin said. "And you're in Sacramento?" She smiled over the top of her champagne glass. "Has Zack gone soft?" 

"Maybe he's tired of trekking around the whole country so he's decided to centralize us," Zane suggested. Syl laughed. 

"Oh yeah, that sounds like Zack," she said dryly. "That scenario is about as tactically unsound as you can get." 

"Well maybe," Brin mused. "He's planning a big mission and he wants us handy in case he needs backup." The three of them sat there for several moments, trying to decide if that was an exciting or a frightening prospect. Syl decided it was a little of both and then shook her head. 

"There's nothing going on like that," she said. "He would have told me." 

"We'll have to ask him next time he drops by," Brin said. There was a long silence that was slightly uncomfortable; Syl knew they wanted to know more about what had happened with Krit but didn't want to ask. 

"It's nearly midnight," she said, checking her watch. Zane smiled. 

"So do either of you have anything profound to say about 2018?" 

"Yeah," Syl said. "I'm not sad to see it go." 

"Resolutions?" he asked next. 

"Don't believe in them," Syl answered. Brin was sitting there thoughtfully. 

"See Maxie again," she said after a moment. Zane and Syl nodded their agreement. 

"Make Zack take a vacation," Zane added his. They all shook their heads at his futile resolution. 

"There's three of us," Syl noted. "How's that going to work for ringing in the new year?" Zane's eyes twinkled. 

"Oh, I'm sure I can handle the both of you," he said, grinning. 

"Or maybe we'll just go ahead without you," Brin teased; Zane considered that seriously for a moment, then glanced down at his watch. 

"Fifteen seconds," he announced. 

"I'm glad I'm here," Syl said. 

"Fourteen." 

"Me too," Brin added. 

"Thirteen. And I'm happy to have you. Twelve." 

"Let's spend next year together Zane, okay?" 

"Ten. Sure, Brin, if we're all living around here. Nine." 

"Let's make sure we are," Syl said. 

"Eight. Okay." They all picked up their champagne glasses. "Seven." 

"For Eva," Brin said solemnly. 

"Six." 

"Eva," Syl agreed. 

"Thanks for getting us out of there, kiddo," Zane spoke softly. "Five." 

"Bye, 2018," Syl said quietly into her champagne glass so only she could hear. "Good riddance." 

"Four," Zane said. "Three... two... one." Raising his glass in a toast, Zane gave them each a kiss on the cheek as they called 'Happy New Year! Happy 2019!' He then downed his drink, as did Brin. Syl took a small sip of hers and smiled at Zane as he already started pouring more. 

  
At three-thirty in the morning, Zane pulled a bed out of his sofa- "Ooh, I'm so impressed," Brin said, laughing, promptly falling onto it, asleep before her head hit the pillow. Zane smiled at her, a bit tipsy himself and that was saying a lot; it took quite a bit of alcohol to get an X5 drunk. He looked around the room for Syl but didn't see her, so he walked through the apartment and found her passed out on his bed, rolled his eyes at her. 

"Syl," he said, shaking her shoulder. She stirred a little but didn't wake up. "Okay, come on, I'm tired." Oblivious, Syl just laid there. "You said you didn't drink but I didn't know you couldn't handle it," he muttered at her, hauling her to her feet. He grabbed her arm, threw it around his shoulder, stumbled with her dead weight back into the hallway. She nearly fell over, groaned a little in complaint. He walked her back to the living room, sat her down next to Brin. She promptly slumped over backward on the bed, her legs still planted firmly on the ground as she slept. Zane laughed again, shook his head at her affectionately, picked up one leg and stuck it under the blankets, then grabbed for the knee of her other leg. Syl suddenly bolted upright, twisting away from him, fully awake. 

"What are you _doing?"_ she gasped. 

"Putting you to bed. I know you're too old now," he teased, starting to laugh at her again. Then he saw in the true fear in her eyes and paused. "What's-" He stopped, eyes widening in surprise before fading to a deep hurt. "God, Syl, what did you _think_ I was doing?" She shook her head, put a hand to her pounding forehead. 

"Never mind, I thought you were someone else," she muttered. Zane sighed, wishing he could go to sleep. But he pulled a chair over and sat in it next to the bed. 

"Talk," he said. She looked at him, shook her head, then laid down as it made her dizzy, pulling the blankets around herself. She glanced over at Brin, who was still sleeping obliviously. 

"If I told you a secret," she said softly. "Would you promise not to say anything to anyone?" 

"Sure," he said. "Of course." She stared at him for a long moment, seemed to be struggling with something. He waited patiently and finally she sighed. 

"I wish we'd never left." she said quietly. 

"Come on Syl, you don't mean that." When she said nothing, he added, "Why?" 

"We were safe there." 

"No we weren't. They broke us, beat us down." 

"We were together," she insisted. "Safe." 

"So what's this?" Zane asked lightly. "You and me, we're here, together, aren't we?" 

"It's not the same." 

"No," he agreed. "This is better." Syl shook her head. "Have you told Zack how you feel?" 

"I told him once," she said softly. "It hurt him." She forced a smile, fought away the darkness pushing at her eyes for a moment. "I'm a little drunk, Zane. I have to sleep." 

"Okay," he said, though obviously she had sobered up quite a bit. He stood up slowly. "We'll talk more tomorrow." 

"I don't want to." 

"We'll see," he said after a moment. "Goodnight, Syl." 

"Goodnight, Zane. And sorry about-" She shrugged, breathed out a sigh. "It wasn't personal." 

"Okay." He watched her close her eyes, snuggle closer to Brin, who was still oblivious to the world. Then he switched the light off and retreated to his bedroom, worried, tired, and disturbed. 

  
Zane's voice cut through Syl's sleep the next morning, muttering something quietly. Brin's gentle, softer voice answered him. 

"So what did Zack say when you called him?" 

"He said he didn't know why I was surprised, seeing as I was there, too. When I pointed out that all of us went through Manticore and are pretty well-adjusted, he just said that Syl is more sensitive. I don't buy that, though." 

"So what do you think?" Brin asked quietly. 

"I don't know," Zane admitted. "But that whole thing with her last night, it-" 

"Would you two mind not talking about me in the third person when I'm right here?" Syl cut him off; Zane jumped but Brin just smiled. 

"Sorry," she said. 

"I thought you were asleep," Zane told her. He watched her for a moment, concern in his dark eyes. "So what is the deal with your shell-shock then?" There was a short silence. 

"You didn't murder one of your brothers, okay?" Syl was a good liar when she needed to be, complete with tears and everything. "Don't you remember that?" Zane glanced at Brin. 

"We were there," he said quietly. "Of course we remember. That wasn't your fault, Syl." She shrugged and there was a short pause. 

"Zane, go away," Brin said suddenly. 

"What?" 

"Just go away for a few hours, okay?" she asked gently. "Please." 

"But this is my-" He stopped at the look on her face, frowned, grabbed his jacket. "Okay." After he was gone Brin slipped back between the sheets and put her arms around her sister's waist. Syl relaxed slightly into the warm, comforting, loving embrace. 

"It's okay," Brin murmured. "I know what happened to you." At her soft words, Syl's entire body stiffened. 

"Zack-" 

"Didn't tell me," Brin interrupted gently. "I'm a woman. I figured it out." When Syl turned in her arms, wide-eyed, Brin lifted a hand and touched her sister's face. "I'm so sorry." 

"Tell me what you think you know." 

"Do you really want me to say it?" Brin asked quietly. A tear slipped down Syl's cheek. 

"I was in heat the first time," she whispered. 

"How old were you?" 

"Twelve." 

"And him?" 

"I don't know. Thirty-something? Forty?" 

"I'm so sorry," Brin said again. "And Zack?" 

"He saved me." 

"He loves you so much. More than any of us." 

"No." Syl shrugged. "He just thinks I need him more." 

"Do you?" 

"I guess so." 

"That's okay, you know." 

"I'm a burden." 

"No you're not, you're his sister." She squeezed her close. "And mine too. You're not a burden at all." 

"Do you ever wish we hadn't left?" 

"Yes." 

"Really?" she asked, surprised. Brin nodded. "I'm so glad I'm not the only one." 

"We can't go back to the way things were before, though," Brin said. "I wouldn't want to." Syl tried not to cry. 

"I know." 

"Things will be better now that I know." 

"Don't tell anyone else, though." 

"I won't even mention it to Zack," Brin promised. "But we can talk about it whenever you want to." Syl was no longer able to hold back her tears. She leaned her head against Brin's shoulder and sobbed.   



	15. Chapter 14

Syl pulled over at a gas station just inside the Sacramento city limits and slammed the door of her truck behind her, barely making it into the filthy restroom before she lost her lunch in the disgusting toilet. She groaned and stood up shakily, stumbling out of the restroom and taking big gulps of air, trying to settle her stomach so she wouldn't have to go back into that grungy place. 

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice came from next to her. She glanced over and met the eyes of a man about five years older than her, looking concerned. She felt a distasteful feeling rise in her stomach when he saw that she was beautiful and took more than just a bored interest in her well-being. 

"I'm fine," she said, but even saying the words made her almost heave again. He frowned. 

"You don't look fine." 

"I said I'm fine, okay?" she snapped. "What's it to you?" His eyes darkened a little but he pushed it away so fast that she could have been imagining it. He took her shoulder. 

"Come on," he said. "I'm driving you home." She tore herself free of his grip. 

"I'm _fine,"_ she said again, turning back toward her truck. She took a step and felt dizziness settle on her head, and all sound faded away but the pounding in her ears. Syl fell, and the last thing she felt was being caught by a pair of strong arms before she fainted into unconsciousness. 

  
"I was wondering when you'd wake up," the guy said to her as her eyes snapped open and her whole body tensed. "Hey," he said. "It's okay." Syl rose up slowly, wary of dizziness, but there was none. They were inside a vehicle, obviously his, but still parked outside the gas station. She glanced down at herself; nothing looked out of order. But her hands were shaking. No, her whole body was shaking. 

"You should lie down," he said. "You've been shivering for a couple of minutes now. 

"Seizures," she managed. "They come on sometimes when I'm stressed. There's some pills in my truck for them." The guy opened the car door behind him, helped her out, aided her in walking steadily back to her truck. She rummaged around for her tryptophan, popped a few, smiled uncomfortably at him. 

"Thanks," she said. He smiled back, extended a hand. 

"I'm Joel." 

"Syl," she said, shaking it. 

"Is that short for something?" he asked; she shrugged. 

"Not really. Sylvia, I guess." 

"Sylvia," he repeated. "That's pretty." 

"I really prefer Syl," she said. He glanced away and she could have kicked herself. Why was she being so rude? He was trying to be nice. "Sorry," she forced, and smiled at him again. "Would you like to go out for lunch or something?" She glanced at the sky, gauged the time. "It must be almost noon." 

"About that," he agreed, then smiled. "I'd love to." 

"So what was all that fainting about, Syl?" he asked. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." 

"Sorry." She smiled. "I was just a little queasy." 

"Well, you seem okay now." 

"Just a little shaky still," she agreed. "It'll go away before we get to the restaurant." 

"I'm driving anyway," he said firmly. She thought about protesting for a moment, then shrugged. 

"Okay." She let him open the passenger side of his jeep and climbed in, secretly glad not to have to drive because she didn't usually trust herself so soon after a seizure. Joel hitched her pickup to the back of the jeep, took them to a nice little Italian restaurant, one of the few decent places in the area. 

"So what do you do?" he asked her halfway through dinner. 

"I'm a waitress," she said. 

"Oh yeah." He smiled, winked at her. "Where? Am I lucky enough for it to be a strip club?" She was surprised and a little irritated, but she forced a smile. 

"Nope." 

"So you attached?" he asked next. Syl thought about that for a moment. 

"No," she decided finally. It made her both sad and relieved to say it. "I was, but we sort of fought." 

"Ah," Joel said. "So you're on the rebound." Syl shrugged. 

"I guess so." 

"You live alone?" 

"Yeah. You?" 

"I have one roommate. Not enough money to afford my own place." He tilted his head at her. "You must get some good tips." 

"Well, my brother sort of helps me out with some money, too," she said. 

"Yeah? That's kind of weird," he remarked. Syl caught herself. 

"Well, our parents died when we were really young, so he sort of looks after me." 

"That's nice." He looked bored. "I don't have any brothers or sisters." Syl tried to imagine that for a moment but found it difficult. 

"That must have been lonely." 

"You done?" he asked, glancing over at her plate. 

"Oh. Yeah." She hadn't touched most of her food. "I guess I'm still kind of nauseous." 

"What was that about anyway?" 

"I've been feeling kind of sick lately," she said uncomfortably, thinking of an excuse that wasn't the truth. "I was at a little get-together with my brother for New Year's, and let's just say he isn't the best cook to ever grace this planet." 

"Ah, your mum didn't teach him too well, huh?" he joked; Syl raised her eyebrows at him. "Sorry," he said. "I forgot already." He hadn't really been listening to her, she knew. Inwardly she sighed. 

"Anyway," she continued. "The seizure didn't help much, either." Joel smiled at her. 

"Yeah. So you want to leave?" 

"Okay." She let him insist on paying and watched without comment as he severely under-tipped the waitress. He drove them to her apartment and followed her into the building. Syl paused in front of her door without opening it. 

"I'm fine," she said, smiling. "I'm not going to faint again." They stood there for a long time and finally Joel smiled at her, reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. She let him lean in and touch his lips to her, and took note of how different he was from Krit, and how less satisfying. She threaded an arm around his neck, deepened the kiss. He pulled back a little. 

"You know this would be a lot easier if you opened the door," he said, his voice husky. 

"No, we're not going to be doing that." 

"Come on." His arms snaked around behind her back, pulled her closer. She pushed against his shoulders slightly, allowed him to kiss her again. Then she let go. 

"I should go, Joel. I'll call you." He sighed a little, looked a little irritated, then finally smiled a smile that was obviously forced. Why did she always attract guys like this? 

"Goodnight, Syl," he said, kissing her deeply again. 

"Goodnight," she said again. Joel turned and walked away, and Syl let herself into her apartment. The weird thing was, she did call him. And they started dating. He was easier than Krit; not because he wasn't going to hit her, because she suspected he would, eventually, but because he didn't love her, and that was pretty much all she could handle. 

* * *

"Tell me all about him," Brin demanded the next night on the phone. Syl smiled fondly at her sister, glad she'd taken Brin up on her offer to keep in touch. She leaned her had back against the pillow of her bed, playing with the phone cord, and gave her a brief description of Joel. 

"No, but is he nice? Sweet? Funny? I want personality details, not looks." 

"Ah," Syl said. "Yeah, he's nice." 

"That's good." 

"What about Greg, how are you two doing?" 

"I think I'm in love with him, really." Brin's voice was full of happiness. "Have you ever been in love?" Syl thought about that for a moment. 

"Maybe. I don't do that kind of thing too well," she admitted. There was a short pause. 

"Are you afraid of sex?" This question surprised Syl with its accuracy. 

"Well, yeah," she said. "I guess." 

"That's typical." 

"How do you know?" 

"I've studied psychology." 

"Yeah?" Syl smiled; that sounded exactly like something Brin would do, but she didn't know if she really wanted to pursue this conversation. "Hey, are you going to marry him?" There was a short silence. 

"I may," she said, sounding incredibly happy. 

"I'm so happy for you, Brin," Syl said. 

"If we do get married, we both want it to be next year. Like, March. February maybe, but no earlier." 

"Sounds good," Syl agreed. "I'm invited, I hope?" 

"Of course!" 

"And you'll explain me how...?" 

"Yes, that will be a bit tricky. Zack will have a quota of course, I won't be able to invite all of you. But I'll probably be allowed five. Do you think he'll let me have five?" 

"Yes," Syl said. "I'm sure five would be acceptable." 

"Okay, then you, Tinga, Jondy, Zane, and Krit. I'll tell Greg you're friends from school." 

"How is Krit?" Syl failed miserably at her attempt to sound nonchalant. "Have you talked to him lately?" 

"Yeah," Brin answered gently. "He's good. He asked about you." 

"He did?" 

"Mmm-hmm. But he wouldn't tell me what happened between you. What was it?" 

"He- No, I-" Syl struggled to explain it. "He wanted to talk about... stuff. And I didn't want to." 

"He doesn't know, though, does he?" 

"No." 

"So that's it?" she asked. "You're just going to keep avoiding him?" 

"I'll have to see him soon." 

"Why's that?" 

"Complicated," she said. 

"Complicated as in 'I don't want to talk about it,' or complicated as 'I want you to pry it out of me because I _can't_ talk about it'?" Brin asked; Syl seriously considered that for a few moments. 

"I don't want to talk about it," she decided finally. "I'll tell you in February when you get married." 

"Okay," Brin said, obviously knowing when not to push, which Syl was grateful for. "I should go, it's late." 

"Yeah," Syl agreed. "Me too." 

"You'd better not call me for a couple of days, I'm due for a heat cycle, okay?" 

"Okay, Brin." 

"What about you?" came the inevitable question. Syl played with the phone cord. 

"Not yet, but soon." In truth, it had been just over four months since the last one, and she was well overdue. But that had happened before; maybe not quite this late, but it _had_ happened. 

"Okay," Brin said. "Goodnight, Syl. I'm glad you called." 

"Me too. I'll talk to you in a week or so." 

"I love you." 

"I love you, too. Goodnight, Brin." She hung up the phone, and thought about Joel, imagined falling in love with him, telling Brin about their wedding, asking Zack for her quota. She laughed out loud, trying not to think about Krit as she simply couldn't stop doing these days. She thought about Joel again. Had it really been almost a year since Steve? Had it even been more? Would she and Joel turn out the same way? And what about Krit? She knew she would have to see him again soon. Syl sighed, long and loud, and closed her eyes. 

  
"Syl," Joel said softly two Saturdays later outside her apartment. "I'm in love with you." She raised her eyebrows at him; this was new. Usually he just tried to coax her- either gently or not so gently- to let him into the apartment, and she could tell he was getting annoyed that she hadn't yet. Every day he got angry she swore to herself that she was going to break up with him, but every day she saw him again and he was so sweet, and she said to Brin he was an angel. 

"No you're not, Joel," she said, smiling at him a little. He momentarily glared, then shrugged. 

"Let's go inside," he said. 

"No." 

"How the hell do I know you don't have another guy in there?" he snapped, angry now. Syl tried not to laugh. 

"Yeah, and it'd be real smart of me to bring you to my front door every night." 

"Prove it," he said. "Let me in. I'll just look around and then I'll go." 

"You don't trust me?" She feigned hurt feelings. He just stood there, so she sighed. "Fine, come on." She put her key in the lock and turned it, pushed the door open. He surveyed her empty apartment, turned back to her with a genuine smile on his face. He laughed at himself, embarrassed, and threaded his arms around her waist. 

"Sorry, baby," he said. She didn't like being called baby. "I guess I just got a little jealous. I've been wondering why you haven't wanted me, and..." He shrugged. 

"It's not that," she assured him, reaching up and resting her arms on his shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her, and she let him. His lips moved to her neck, against her collar bone. He undid one of the buttons of her shirt. "Joel," she said, turning away. He fixed her with a hard look, took her arm firmly. He kissed her again; a moment later his hand was up the back of her shirt, pulling at her bra. She backed out of his arms. "You should go," she said, walking to the front door to let him out. Again he caught her arm. 

"What, is something wrong with me?" he hissed at her. 

"No, I told you, it isn't you," she said, annoyed. He glared at her. 

"Come on, what, are you saving yourself for marriage?" He pulled her close again, nuzzled her neck. "You don't make out like a virgin, Syl." She sighed before allowing him to kiss her again, deeply. He nudged her toward her bedroom with his hips; she could feel the heat of him through their clothes. 

"Joel," she snapped, putting a hand against his chest. "I told you to leave." Angry, he swatted her hand away and glared at her. She backed off a bit. "Okay, get out," she said. "Right now." Then she waited for the dance to begin. 

The dance; that's what she'd nicknamed it, because that's what it was like. It was like ballet, only with blood involved. First the anger, then the violence, then the apologizing. She waited for it to start with Joel as it had started with Steve, and others before him. Sure enough, the first blow came. It wasn't a punch or even a slap, it was a slam- he shoved her up against the wall with his arm. As it always happened, Syl was relieved by his actions. Somehow, being hit made her feel alive, made her no longer one of twelve children who escaped a place the other eleven were all glad to be away from but which she pined for every day. The blows made her feel like she hadn't murdered one of her brothers, that she hadn't ripped apart a man in the woods, that she hadn't slept twice with one brother and once almost with another, that she hadn't given up a child that had almost killed her. 

Joel was yelling at her, she belatedly realized. And she was bleeding; her cheek was ripped open a little above the dimple she got when she smiled. 

"You bitch!" he was growling at her. "You're a little tease, aren't you?" Syl suddenly realized that she was in a lot of pain. He'd landed quite a few punches against her face, as well as on her torso. Too late she understood that he was more dangerous than she'd given him credit; she'd never had a boyfriend quite this violent before. The blows he'd landed on her stomach and chest left her breathless. 

Joel grabbed her shoulder harshly, his eyes dark with both anger and desire. She shivered in his grip as his hand slapped her face again, her ears ringing slightly. "I'm sick of it, Syl! I've been waiting patiently. I deserve this." He grabbed her arm and hauled her toward the bedroom. When she realized what he was doing, she came to her senses and landed a well-placed kick to his stomach, easily pulling herself loose from his grasp. He could hit her as much as he wanted to, but she would die before she'd ever let him touch her. Joel reeled against the wall, cursing in pain, his eyes wide with surprise. He wiped blood from his face and stared at her as she held her fists up against him in a warning not to come any closer. 

Suddenly Syl felt a sharp pain wrench through her body, and couldn't stop herself from half collapsing, gritting her teeth against the pain as she grabbed the wall to keep herself upright. Her hands started shaking but before she could register what was happening to her Joel had knocked her to the ground and was slapping her ears, her face, cursing in anger that she'd hit him. Syl tried to bring her shaking hands up to defend herself but he held them down and she was too dizzy to be very coordinated. He punched her again, hard, in the stomach, in the chest. A rib cracked. 

"Joel," she said, her voice wavering dangerously. "Joel, I need-" His fist connected with her jaw and she let her head snap to the side before she bit out, "I need my pills. I'm having-" He hit her again. Her whole body was convulsing now, and she couldn't fight back. The dull pain in her chest and abdomen made by his fists was spreading. "Joel..." she gasped. 

"Shut up!" he yelled. He raised a hand to smack her again, then paused as her teeth began chattering. His fist slowly lowered and his eyes widened. "Syl?" he asked, hard. Then more softly, "Syl?" 

"My pills," she managed, convulsing horribly now. He got off her, ran out of the room. Syl folded around herself, fighting off unconsciousness and pain. A moment later he was kneeling beside her, with a glass of water and her bottle of tryptophan. He helped her down several, cradled her into a sitting position to drink the water. Pain shot through her as she shifted position and she tried not to cry out loud. Fear gripped her; this was more than just a seizure. 

"I'm sorry," he kept whispering into her hair, stroking her back. "I'm sorry." 

"Joel," she breathed. "Something's wrong." He let out a strangled laugh. 

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. 

"No, I mean-" She gasped as pain shot through her again. He swallowed fearfully. 

"I'm calling an ambulance," he said, standing up, reaching for the phone. "You fell, okay? You fell down the stairs." Syl laughed bitterly. 

"There are no stairs here," she said. Joel slammed the phone down, leaned his face down in front of hers, grabbed her shaking chin roughly. 

"You'd better not say anything to anyone about what happened," he hissed. Syl laughed in his face and he raised a hand to hit her again, then dropped it at the last moment. He straightened. "Fine," he spat. "Just stay here and die." He grabbed his coat and stomped out. Syl breathed hard through her mouth, raised herself shakily and painfully to her feet, gritting her teeth against dizziness that threatened to send her crashing back to the floor. Finally she dropped to her knees and crawled to the phone, clutching a hand against her throbbing stomach, felt blood against her hand. She picked up the receiver, dialled Zack's emergency number. 

"It's me," she bit out when he answered after the first ring. He heard the pain in her voice immediately. 

"Syl. Are you in trouble?" 

"Are you close?" 

"I'm with Zane." 

"Good. I need you to come, Zack. Now." She closed her eyes against another wave of pain. Her voice was shaking. "I don't think I'm going to last very long." 

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed; she knew he was already heading for the door. She said nothing for several moments as the pain encroached on her consciousness again. 

"I..." She swallowed, tears stinging her eyes. This was not how she'd wanted him to find out. She glanced down at herself; she could feel the blood now, warm and sticky against her legs. "I was pregnant," she said softly, her tears spilling over. "Now I think I'm not." There was a long, long silence. 

"Are you alone?" he asked finally, so gentle she almost cried with relief that he wasn't angry. 

"Now I am," she said; she could tell he was struggling not to curse as he put the pieces together of how she'd come into this condition. 

"Call an ambulance," he ordered. 

"But Ly-" 

"We'll worry about that later. I don't want to get there and find you dead on the bedroom floor. Call one _now,_ Syl." 

"Okay, I will, I promise." She bit her lip. "Zack?" 

"What?" 

"Hurry." She failed miserably at keeping the fear out of her voice. 

"I'm coming right now," he said, urgently. "Just hang on, Syl." She nodded, set down the phone. After waiting for a moment she picked it up again, dialled. She gasped as another bout of pain hit her. 

"Emergency," she heard the woman's voice on the other end. "Hello?" She gritted her teeth, tried to say something, but nothing really more than a squeak came out. Then she collapsed onto the floor and blackness took over her vision.   



	16. Chapter 15

Consciousness returned slowly. First she made out sounds, the sounds of two people breathing- one awake, one asleep. She opened her eyes, blinked against the light of the room as it pierced her vision. She was in a hospital. She wasn't dead. Zack was here. And so was- 

"Ben?" she gasped. He was standing in the doorway, looking at her, his head tilted a little to the side, smiling. Zack was sleeping in a chair next to her bed. Ben came into the room, stood beside her. 

"Syl," he said. "You've grown." 

"So have you." She reached out her arms and he hugged her. She could smell his shampoo, an herbal aroma, and a scent that was distinctly him and hadn't changed since they were children. After a few moments he let go and gazed at her. He reached out a hand to touch her cheek where it was still healing from one of Joel's blows. There was pain in his eyes. 

"I'm fine," she assured him. 

"I know," he answered. She hadn't been prepared for that; whenever she told Zack she was fine he either disagreed, got upset but tried to hide it, or started blaming himself for whatever had befallen her this time. Ben's reaction was a surprise. And a relief. 

"You let them hit you because it makes you feel real?" he asked softly. She didn't say anything for several moments, taken aback at his words. 

"I guess so," she finally answered. "I don't really know." She glanced away, uncomfortable in front of his penetrating stare. "Maybe." She looked at him. "Is that why you've been killing people, Ben? To feel real?" 

"I do it for the Blue Lady." 

"You really believe in her still?" 

"Don't you? I see her everywhere. They have shrines to her out here. She's real." 

"Churches don't call her the Blue Lady, though, Ben. And there's nothing about nomlies or teeth." 

"Minor details," he said, shrugging her words off easily. Syl gazed at him. 

"I hope you're happy, Ben." 

"I am. I'm happy." 

"Because you feel normal when you kill?" 

"No," he said. That stare again. He'd never had that stare at Manticore. "Because I _am_ normal when I kill. There's no escaping it. Why would you even want to? It's who we are, Syl. There's nothing wrong with it." Somewhere deep inside, even though she didn't want to, she knew he was right. She glanced away from Ben over at Zack. Hadn't he said it himself a thousand times? _We're soldiers. Being outside doesn't change that._

"Ben," she said. "I'm glad you came." He smiled at her, reached out and touched her head; his fingers were warm and soft against her forehead. He looked like he was blessing her. 

"Syl," he said. "I missed you. Zack never lets me see anyone." 

"I think he's afraid of you." 

"Zack isn't afraid of anything," Ben answered. Syl bit her lip. 

"You'd be surprised," she said softly. He took his hand off her head, smiled at her again, glanced sideways at Zack. 

"I have to go." 

"Will you come back?" 

"No." 

"Be careful, Ben." 

"Don't let them hit you anymore," he said. "You're real, Syl. I know who you are. I see you." He touched her cheek. "I forgive you." 

"What for?" 

"I don't know. For something. For everything you can't forgive yourself." He smiled again, sadly. "It doesn't matter what for. Don't let them hurt you anymore, okay?" 

"Okay." She was surprised to find she wasn't lying. A weight lifted from her heart, surprising her further; was it that easy? A promise to a brother, and _voila_ you're fixed? 

"Bye, Syl," he said. "I love you." 

"I love you too, Ben," she answered softly. He smiled- slow, serene. Happy, truly, in a haunted kind of way. She smiled back. Then he turned, walked to the door, and he was gone. 

  
"Syl!" She jerked awake as someone called her name; a hand was on her shoulder. Zack's hand. And his face, staring down at her with a mixture of fear and anguish on his face, though to anyone but her it would have been completely unreadable. She gazed around the same hospital room she'd just been in, but she couldn't remember having fallen asleep. 

"Where's Ben?" she asked. 

"Ben?" Zack's brow furrowed as he withdrew his hand. "He's in Chicago still, why?" 

"But... he was just here," she said. "Wasn't he?" 

"You were hallucinating," Zack said gently. "Pain medication does that sometimes." 

"Were you just sleeping?" she asked, glancing at the chair where she'd seen him dozing while Ben had been talking to her. 

"No," he said. "I was in the cafeteria getting something to eat." He held out an apple. "Want this?" 

"I'm not hungry. Zack, I could have sworn he was here. He talked to me." 

"It's okay, Syl," he said. "I've hallucinated myself once or twice from that stuff. You're back in reality now." 

"I guess." She couldn't shake the dream, though. It had felt so real. Syl sighed, and then gasped as the movement of her ribs sent pain shooting through her body. It receded almost immediately as her pain medication compensated. Then she remembered why she was here. "Zack," she said hesitantly. "The baby." He gazed at her sadly, shook his head. Syl forced herself to nod, be strong. 

"You can cry if you want to," Zack told her gently. But she was afraid that if she did she wouldn't be able to stop, so she shook her head. 

"Did they see my barcode?" 

"You don't have a barcode," he said. "I lasered it off." 

"How did you manage that?" 

"Same way I managed to get you a fake id," he said. "You're Jennifer O'Neill." 

"And you are...?" 

"I'm your _brother,"_ he said; he was trying to make her laugh, which was unusual for him. She did, then reached over and poked his arm. 

"What's your _name?"_

"Robert," he said. Syl shook her head. 

"Doesn't suit you." 

"Oh," he mocked her. "Well I'm sorry." She smiled, then bit her lip. 

"Zack..." she began cautiously. "Where's Joel?" 

"Was that his name?" Zack asked, dead serious again. Syl let her breath out in a sigh. 

"You killed him?" she asked softly. He gazed at her for a long moment, finally shrugged, slightly uncomfortable, his humour gone. He sat down on the edge of her bed and started staring at the IV tube a nurse had stuck into her arm. 

"The doctors say you're going to be fine," he said finally, nodding as though to reassure both her and himself. 

"That's good." She sighed after a short silence. "I was probably going to miscarry eventually anyway you know," she said softly. 

"You don't have to talk about it," he said. She looked at him; she wanted to talk about it. 

"You remember they told me that, don't you? Because the first one was so difficult, they said it would probably be hard for me to ever carry another child?" Zack nodded. 

"I know. But this was preventable, Syl. His beating you up caused it, not the first baby." His voice was so gentle that he was barely speaking above a whisper but it made her cringe anyway and he paused. "Sorry. Why didn't you tell me?" He finally met her eyes. "Did you think I would be angry?" She hesitated. 

"No," she said finally. "I was going to tell you when you came down in a couple of weeks, for her birthday." Zack always came for her daughter's birthday; it was a ritual. 

"Why did you let him?" The question was always the same, even though she'd answered it a thousand times. She thought of what she'd told Ben, but found that she couldn't remember most of their conversation anymore, only that she'd been happy and content to see him again. 

"I don't know, Zack." 

"Did you want to miscarry that baby?" he asked softly. She froze. Did she? 

"I... I don't know," she finally admitted. She started crying. His hand was gentle against her shoulder, comforting. 

"It doesn't matter. It's gone now anyway, and so is its father, and you're going to be fine." He looked hopeful. "You can just put it behind you, Syl." She shrugged away from his touch, stared out the hospital room's window. 

"It was Krit's, Zack," she said finally. "I didn't sleep with Joel. That's why he got mad. The baby wasn't his, it was Krit's." His hand had frozen against her cold cheek. She slowly turned back to him and saw an unreadable expression on his face. It was more horrible that anguish, more pained than guilt. It scared her. But before she could think of what to do next or how to respond to that, Zack did something she never would have expected: he stood up abruptly, turned, and left the room. Syl just laid in her hospital bed, staring at the door he'd exited through in shock, trying not to sob out loud. 

  
It was two hours before he came back. He sat on her bed again, like he'd never left her side. 

"I'm sorry-" she started. 

"Syl," he interrupted, shaking his head. "I sent him." 

"What?" 

"Krit. I sent him to you in Colorado. Your boyfriend at the time- Steven Anderson..." 

"Steve," she agreed. 

"I was checking up on him. He had a history of assault. I was worried, so I sent Krit to Colorado." 

"You... timed it? For when I would be in heat?" She was shocked. 

"No," he said immediately. "No, that was a coincidence." 

"What did you think would happen?" 

"You were always close at Manticore. You were paired off together in the escape. He used to talk about you all the time after I split you up." He shrugged; he was speaking softly. "I thought maybe he could... I don't know..." 

"Save me?" she whispered. He shrugged again, uncomfortably. He was looking at his hands. 

"Maybe." 

"Zack, it's _my_ life." 

"You almost died tonight." 

"But I didn't," she insisted. There was a short pause. 

"Are you going to tell him?" 

"Of course," she hissed. "This was his _child."_ She started crying. "His baby... I killed it, you're right, I did..." 

"Syl," Zack said firmly. "Your baby, too. It wasn't your fault. That's not what I meant." 

"Maybe it was. God, Zack, maybe I _did_ want to miscarry!" She watched him hesitate. 

"It was your body," he said slowly. "I could understand that." 

"I can't!" Syl clenched her fists. "An innocent baby- that's something _Lydecker_ would do, not-" She forced herself to stop, or she knew she would bring on another seizure and that was the last thing she needed right now. She turned back to Zack slowly. "You said once you'd wished you'd made me have an abortion with her." He winced at her words. "Would you have made me do it now, if this hadn't happened?" 

"No." The sureness of his tone soothed her a little. 

"Why not?" She was almost sleepy. 

"Because this is different. You aren't a child. Krit isn't a rapist." 

"Well, that's very logical, Zack," she said, sadly. He frowned. 

"That first baby screwed up your life. I don't want it to happen again." 

"I'm scared," she admitted. Before Zack could answer a doctor entered the room. 

"Ah," the woman said. "You're awake." 

"Hi," Syl answered tentatively. She hated doctors, hated anyone that had any kind of control over her. Funny the kind of boyfriends she chose. As soon as she though that, a portion of her conversation with Ben came back- even if it hadn't really been him, she'd promised him that she would stop seeking out those guys. And if indeed it hadn't been him, then she'd promised herself. And she intended to keep that promise. She turned to the doctor as Zack stood up. 

"I'm going to leave you two, alone, okay?" he said to Syl. 

"Okay." 

"I'll see you later." 

"Bye," she answered. Zack left, and the doctor took his place on the edge of Syl's bed, smiled at her. 

"Your brother seems to love you very much, Jennifer," the doctor said; she said nothing in response to that obvious statement, so she continued, "Has he told you anything about your condition?" Syl shook her head. 

"No, just that I was going to be okay." 

"Would you like to know the details?" 

"Yes please." 

"Okay. But first I'd like to ask you about the... uniqueness of how your miscarriage came about." Her voice was soft, comforting, but Syl tensed anyway. "You were beaten. By whom, your husband?" 

"Boyfriend," Syl said. "He's long gone." 

"A woman's body is designed to carry a baby even under extremely rough circumstances. You would have had to sustain very serious injuries to cause you to lose your child." 

"I _did_ sustain very serious injuries," Syl said, annoyed. "You examined me, didn't you?" 

"Yes," the doctor said. She paused. "I also observed evidence of previous internal damage." 

"I had surgery when I was a child. Why?" 

"You were raped?" 

"Yes." 

"And had a baby? There was evidence of an earlier delivery." 

"That's right." 

"I see." 

"Why are you asking me all this?" 

"It wasn't in your medical history. I just wanted to ask because it probably contributed to the unusual circumstances of your miscarriage." 

"They said it would be hard for me to carry a baby," Syl offered. The doctor nodded. 

"Where is the child now?" 

"She's dead." 

"I'm sorry." 

"She died about two seconds after she was born." Syl shrugged. "I didn't even see her." 

"You seem to be in otherwise excellent health." The doctor fixed her with a strange look that made Syl very apprehensive. "Your bloodwork came back." Syl froze. 

"Could I see my brother now, please?" she asked. "I really need to talk to him." 

"I'll call him in a moment," the doctor said. "Jennifer, I need to know everything there is to know about you and your bloodwork is... very interesting." 

"Can you just tell me what's going to happen now?" Syl asked. The doctor sighed a little. 

"You're just over fifteen weeks along. I'm recommending we induce." Syl felt her heart catch. 

"Wait, what? The baby is dead, right?" 

"Yes he is." 

"But you're saying I have to deliver it anyway?" Syl swallowed hard. "Why?" 

"For many reasons," the doctor said gently. 

"Don't I have a choice? Isn't there a surgery or something you can do?" At this the doctor frowned. 

"It's not usual, but there is a procedure that can remove the remains another way. But it's very complicated." She paused, dropped her voice. "It's very expensive, you understand." Syl was disgusted. 

"Money isn't an issue," she growled. "My brother has lots. I want you to do whatever procedure you're talking about. I'm not giving birth to a dead baby." The doctor looked miffed, but nodded. 

"I'll check into it," she said. "The matter of your bloodwork-" 

"Can you call him now, please?" she interrupted softly. The doctor frowned, but nodded after a moment and stood up and left the room, promising to be back. Zack returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water, which he offered to her. The doctor left them alone as Syl took a swig. 

"We have to go to Colorado," she said. 

"Not yet. Krit can wait, we have to get you healthy first." 

"Zack, I don't like it here. That doctor wanted me to deliver this baby as though it was alive." She expected him to immediately agree with her that the doctor was crazy, but he stood there for a few moments looking very thoughtful instead. 

"Don't you want to see it?" he asked finally. She stiffened. 

"I didn't even want to see the first one and she was alive." 

"And you've never had closure," he said gently. Syl glared at him. 

"We have to leave," she said, changing the subject. "The doctor asked about my bloodwork. She suspects something." Zack ran a hand through his hair. 

"I don't think you're in any condition to move, Syl." 

"I'll be fine." 

"No," Zack said firmly after a moment. "You should stay here. She said you'll be bleeding for at least a week more. I'll deal with the bloodwork thing. You have to do what the doctor wants you to, okay?" 

"Fine," she said angrily. 

"Okay. Good." He sat down, sighed; she softened at the stressed look on his face. 

"You don't have to stay," she said tentatively. 

"Of course I do," he said, smiling a little. "And not just because of the bloodwork." 

"What about Zane?" 

"What about him?" 

"You were with him when I called," she reminded him. 

"Oh, it wasn't an emergency. Just a visit." 

"That's nice. He'd been wanting to see you." 

"I was checking in with him and Brin and Jondy." 

"It was nice of you to put Zane and Brin in the same city." 

"Yeah, well, they've always been close." 

"How did they lose each other after the escape anyway?" she asked. "They were paired together I know but they never said how they got separated." Zack shrugged. 

"Long story," he said. "You should get some rest." 

"I can't sleep." 

"Then close your eyes," he said. "I'm going to." 

"Fine." She obeyed, waited for his breathing to get even. Then she opened her eyes and looked over at him where he sat sleeping on the chair next to her bed. She glanced outside; it was dark and windy. She felt sick to her stomach and cold, and now that Zack had mentioned it she could feel herself bleeding. Syl laid her head back against the pillow, pulled her blankets tighter around herself, and cried for this child, hers and Krit's. It wasn't fair what had happened, and what if she had done it? What had Ben asked her? 

_You let them hit you because it makes you feel real?_ And she had answered yes. 

_You're real, Syl,_ he'd said. _I know who you are._ If he wasn't Ben, if it had been a hallucination, then he had actually been a part her, and he'd said he knew who she was. Did that meant she knew herself? She didn't feel like she did. But she had made that promise, and as many times as she'd said it before this time she had no doubts that she would abide by that promise. 

Syl thought of Krit. She would have to see him soon, to tell him about their child. Last time she'd seen him they had fought. The doctor had said 'he' and 'him.' A little boy; her and Krit's son. Dead. Syl shuddered, let her tears fall hot against her pillow. She was afraid to tell him, afraid of how he was going to react. If she _had_ meant to miscarry, if she _had_ wanted to for some reason, some sick perverted screwed-up reason in her screwed-up head, what did that make her? And what would Krit say? She hadn't wanted anything between them but now, faced with the possibility that she would get that wish, she was terrfied. She _did_ want to be with him, desperately, she realized now. But would he forgive her? 

Syl glanced over at Zack again, who had when they were children forgiven her for anything she'd ever done and anything she ever would do, like he had with all of them. That was love. But she didn't seem to be capable of that kind of love for herself. Maybe even for no one. She loved Zack, it was true, and Brin and Zane and Krit. But she was always a little detached, anxious. Why? What was wrong with her? 

_I know who you are. I see you,_ Ben had said. _I forgive you._

"But I don't, Ben," she whispered into the dark night. She wiped a tear from her cheek but more just followed, soaking her pillow. "I can't."   



	17. Chapter 16

_His hand was tight in hers as she hauled him along._ To the fence, to the fence, Zack said to the fence, _the silent mantra repeated over and over in her head. She was too afraid to pay attention to anything but that goal to get to the perimeter, and to not lose Krit in the process. _

"There!" she heard a man's yell, from close. Had they been spotted? She turned and shoved herself at Krit, tumbling them both to the snowy ground. She grabbed his shoulders and rolled them under a log, squeezed under it as far as they could go. She could make out the fear in Krit's eyes plainly through the dark and she touched his shoulder, giving him a weak smile. There was a thump above; someone was standing on the log. Both children froze, their hands clasped tightly together, terrified. Syl saw a movement through a hole in the log close to where they'd taken refuge, and her heart raced. All she could think was, The fence, the fence, I have to get us to the fence! Will they see me will they see me and if they do could Krit still get away? _A face suddenly appeared and she froze, then realized who it was. _

Tinga, signalling wildly to her. She reached in and took Syl's hand, pulling them both out. She signalled a few other times, telling them that the men had gone back the other way and they were clear all the way to the perimetre. Ben was behind her, looking glad to see them but anxious to get moving again. He poked Tinga's shoulder and jerked his head toward the fence. The four of them took off running, Krit's hand still clasped tightly in Syl's. He was her responsibility; Zack had said so, pointed to them and sent them off together. And she was older. But where was Zack now? 

They hit the fence with a clang, poking their bare feet through the chain-link and climbing up toward the barbed wire. 

"Max!" they suddenly heard from the other side, the freedom side. Jondy; she sounded terrified. Syl froze and her eyes snapped to Krit's and then to Tinga's; Ben was above. The pause ended almost immediately and they kept climbing, swinging themselves over the fence as bullets cracked through the air, close. Ben signalled wildly for them to split up, and then he grabbed Tinga's hand and started running, disappearing into the foliage. Krit took off in the other direction and Syl followed him, keeping him in her sight. She caught up with him and pulled a little ahead, scanning the territory. Bullets rang out to the left and she could hear helicopters closing. This time it was Krit's turn to knock her to the ground as she heard shots go just over their heads. Heart pounding, she thought they'd been discovered, but a moment later they saw the blurred shape of Jondy run by and realized she was the one being shot at. Syl got up out of the cold snow and ran parallel to their sister, and Krit followed, blurring with her, getting out of range of the soldiers chasing them. 

Syl didn't know quite what to do; they had cleared the fence as ordered, and what would normally be expected now was to regroup and get new orders from Zack. But she didn't know where Zack was. They'd caught up with Jondy now, who glanced over as they fell into step beside her. 

Max?, _Syl signalled, knowing that's who Jondy had been paired with. Her little sister shook her head sadly, her eyes pained._

Gone, _she signalled back._

Zack? _Krit gestured. Syl watched as Jondy's expression grew even more anguished._

MIA, _she signalled._ Tasered. Surrounded. _Syl's face blanched._ Who else made it? _Jondy wanted to know next._

Tinga, _Krit signalled._ Ben. _Jondy waited for more names, but all he and Syl could do was shrug helplessly. Jondy nodded gravely._

Split up, _she said. Syl shook her head, took Krit's hand._

My responsibility, _she signalled back. Jondy nodded, reached out and touched their clasped hands, smiled, and then ran off in the other direction, leaving them alone. Syl watched her go sadly for a moment with Krit and then glanced over her shoulder as they continued running. The snow was falling heavy now, making it harder to pick out distinctive sounds, but after a while Syl was satisfied that they had lost their pursuers. Gradually they slowed their pace, started walking through the forest instead of running. After about a quarter of an hour they were finally confident enough to speak. Krit looked up at the sky, took a deep breath of snowy-fresh air. _

"We're free," he said softly. 

"Zack," Syl said disbelievingly. "He didn't make it." 

"And Eva," Krit answered softly. Syl cringed and said nothing, just nodded, still hearing the shot, seeing Eva's head jerking backward, the gun sliding away, blood slipping onto the cold tile of the floor. She shook the hideous memory away as they came across a road, focussing on the mission at hand. 

"We'll follow it to a city," Syl said. "We'll go to ground. That's what Zack would have wanted." Krit glanced over at her apprehensively. 

"He would have wanted us to separate," he said in a small voice. She hesitated. 

"We won't," she said finally. "We'll stay together, okay? Don't worry." She smiled at him, but he was looking past her, up the empty night road. She followed his gaze; there was nothing but the falling snow. Then he turned and looked the other way; again, nothing was there. 

"Syl?" he asked after a moment. "What if we're the only ones?" His voice was small, frightened, echoing her own thoughts and fears. She swallowed hard, reached again for his hand. She squeezed it. 

"That doesn't matter," she said. "We're not going to split up. We'll be okay, Krit, you and me." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise." 

  
"Syl." Zack was shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes slowly, stretched the cramp out of her neck from sleeping awkwardly in the half-reclined passenger seat of his SUV. 

"What?" she asked. 

"You were muttering," he said. "Nightmare?" Syl shrugged. 

"I don't know the difference," she answered. Zack let that go as she surveyed their surroundings. It was dark, the stars were shining, and they were in a city. It looked familiar. 

"We're here?" 

"Five minutes to Krit's," he agreed. Syl started feeling very apprehensive. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Zack glanced sideways at her. "It'll be fine," he assured her. "It's Krit." 

"Let's talk about something else," she said. 

"Okay, what?" 

"I don't know. Talk about someone. What did you do with Zane last month?" 

"I met his girlfriend." Zack sounded annoyed; that was something she could concentrate on. 

"You don't like her?" 

"She's a cop. That's about the stupidest thing he could have done." Zack shook his head at Zane, with that look on his face that was always reserved for that particular brother, half love and half annoyance. 

"And how does he feel about her?" she prompted. 

"He thinks he's going to marry her, of course," Zack answered. "He thinks that about every damned girl he hooks up with. Doesn't he know the difference between love and a relationship?" 

"You're one to talk." She glanced at him. "I didn't mean that." 

"I _choose_ not to have relationships." 

"Oh," she said, careful to make her tone of voice neutral and teasing at the same time. "Okay." He glanced at her, frowned a good-natured frown. 

"You ready for this, Syl?" 

"I said I wanted to talk about something else." 

"Max," Zack said; her eyebrows lifted. That was a name she didn't hear often. 

"Mmm-hmm?" she didn't want to say anything that made her sound too excited or he might not say anything more. 

"She's doing well." 

"That's good. You talked to her yet?" 

"Nope." 

"Are you going to?" 

"Not unless it's necessary." 

"Why's that?" 

"That's how it was for all of you. Max has just managed to stay out of trouble all this time." She smiled at the near-disappointment in his voice. 

"There was that time you told me about in Sheridan," she reminded him. "Just after the escape." As soon as she said the words they jolted her. _Just after the escape._ Before that foster home; before all of it. There had been a world between Manticore and all of her horrors; she'd been happy outside, for a time. Sometimes Syl forgot that. 

"I didn't talk to her then," Zack was saying. "She got out of trouble on her own." 

"You were proud." 

"Of course." 

"Did you ever think you could maybe talk to her just to visit?" she ventured. "Does it have to be an emergency?" 

"It's safer for all of us if there's minimal contact, you know that," he said. Of course she knew that; she'd gone around the country with him looking after everyone for three years. She alone knew the secret of how he'd made it out that night, after the tasers, after Jondy had said he'd been taken back. She was the only one he'd ever told a lot of things. She kept all his secrets, and he kept hers. 

"I know," she said. "But it might make you happy. And her." Zack shrugged. 

"One day," he answered. "When she gets in trouble." 

"'When,' not 'if?'" she teased. Zack glanced at her, rolled his eyes. 

"You _all_ get into trouble sometime, Syl." 

"And it's up to you to sort us all out," she agreed. She sighed dramatically. "Where would us little children be without you, Zack?" He glanced at her sideways, seriously. 

"I don't know," he said. Syl couldn't help it; she laughed. Zack glared at her then smiled a little and shook his head. He stopped the car. "We're here." Syl stared at the familiar building, all her humour fading. She suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. 

"What do you want to do, Syl?" he asked gently. 

"I have to go in." 

"Yeah," he agreed, sounding relieved; obviously he hadn't been looking forward to the prospect of trying to convince her. "So do you want me to come?" Syl seriously considered that for a moment. 

"No," she said finally. "I think I should do it alone." 

"Okay." Again, Zack sounded pleased with her decision. She smiled at him, knowing he would have done whatever she wanted no matter how he felt about it. He loved her so much, no matter what. Would Krit feel the same way? 

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm going in." She opened the car door, glanced back at him. "Wish me luck." 

"There's no such thing," he said, then added, "You'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded, closed the car door, watched him drive down the street and out of sight. She went up to the building and for possibly the first time in her life went through the motions of going through a front door instead of a window or skylight. She pressed the button that was listed as Krit's alias' apartment, buzzing it several times since it was late and he was probably sleeping. After about the twelfth annoying buzz there was a click. 

"Hello?" Even incredibly annoyed Krit was polite enough not to snap at a potential stranger. Syl smiled. 

"It's me, Krit," she spoke into the intercom. "Can I come in?" There was a short silence. 

"Syl?" he finally asked, his voice low with disbelief. 

"Yeah." 

"Come on up," he said, releasing the front doorlock. She went inside and rode the elevator to his floor, letting herself into his apartment. He was standing on the other side of the door, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt he'd thrown on, his hair tousled with sleep but his eyes looking not at all tired as they stared at her, wide with surprise. She closed his door behind her slowly and stood there for a few moments, saying nothing. Then she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to speak. 

"I'm sorry about what happened at Zane's," she said softly. "I overreacted." 

"I shouldn't have pushed," he countered. She smiled. 

"It's not unfair for you to want to know what's going on with me." 

"Maybe not," he said. "But you have a right to your secrets, Syl." She laughed a little. 

"Krit," she said. "You're amazing." He smiled. 

"That's funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you," he said, his voice gently teasing her. She smiled back at him, then let out a little sigh, not wanting to destroy this moment but knowing she had to. 

"Okay," she said, her voice shaking slightly. She leaned against the nearest wall. "We need to talk." She swallowed hard as he slowly nodded, sensing her elevation of anxiety. What would he say? What would he do? Why was she so afraid? Krit turned and walked over to his sofa, sat down slowly, tense because he could see how important this was, and because he knew it wasn't good news. 

"Sit with me," he said. Syl heaved a deep breath, detached herself from the wall, and took a tentative seat next to him. She stared at her hands for almost a full two minutes while he waited with more patience than she thought he was capable of. The scent of tension emanated from him in waves. 

"When I go into heat," she began softly. "I'm..." She searched for the right words. "I'm at my most- My body is-" 

"Fertile?" he supplied helpfully, in a soft voice. She shot him a grateful look then went back to staring at her hands. 

"Yeah. Anyway, so I'm pretty like thousands of times more... fertile... at that time of the year." 

"Right," he said. He sounded hesitant; he was guessing at what she was getting at. "Syl," he said. "I knew you were due for a cycle before, but you didn't come." He sounded a little hurt, but mostly cautious. Scared even. "Are you going to have a baby, is that what you're trying to tell me?" Syl tried not to cry, tried to breathe normally. 

"I missed my last cycle, Krit." 

"Oh." His voice was confused. Finally she forced herself to look at him. "What does that mean?" 

"It means the same thing that it means when normal girls miss their periods." She took a big breath. "It means what you think. I was pregnant. From the last time." There was a long silence; Krit's eyes were huge now. 

"From me?" he asked finally, softly. 

"Yes." 

"Well, what do you mean you _were_ pregnant? Did you-" He swallowed hard, glanced away. "Did you have an abortion, Syl?" 

"No!" She reached for his hand. "No, Krit, I miscarried." She forced back a sob that was threatening, whispered, "I'm sorry." She was desperately trying not to cry but the unwanted tears slipped down her face anyway. "I'm so sorry." Krit was gazing at her, his expression between shock and pain. He sat there for almost a minute watching her cry, and then he suddenly blinked several times; she realized he hadn't even been looking at her at all, but trying to take in her words. When he regained his senses he reached out to her gently. His hand was soft against her cheek, his chest warm as he pulled her to it, cradled her like a child. Syl looked up at him and he was almost crying too. She reached around his back and hugged him close. 

"When did this happen?" he asked after a long time, softly, his voice pained. 

"A few weeks ago." His eyebrows lifted. 

"You were really far along then," he said. "How did you lose it?" Quickly he added, "I'm not blaming you." 

"I know. My boyfriend-" She stopped, shook her head as her voice choked with tears again. Krit understood and his eyes fell closed briefly. He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead. 

"It's okay," he soothed. "Shshsh, it's okay, Syl." His hands were gently threading through her hair. "I'm going to kill that bastard," she heard him add under his breath. Syl laughed but there was no humour in it. 

"I think Zack may have beat you to it." 

"Oh." Krit did not sound surprised. "Well, good." 

"I would have come down sooner but I wasn't really in any shape to move," she said. "I've been in the hospital." He turned concerned eyes on her. 

"Are you alright now?" 

"Yes, just a little exhausted. But I'll be fine." 

"What about emotionally?" he asked softly. "Are you okay?" Syl brushed at her tears. 

"I'll be fine," she said. Krit sighed a little, touched her cheek. 

"What was it?" he asked in a gentle voice. Syl stiffened at that question; she hadn't wanted him to ask that because she knew that she would have to answer, and that would make this baby not an it, but a him. It would make it real. She didn't want it to be real. 

"It was a boy," she said softly. Suddenly she saw a toddler that looked like Krit at age three, only with hair, looking up at her, grinning. _I love you, Mummy!_ he chirped happily. She shook it away and beside her Krit closed his eyes briefly, nodded against her hair, likely seeing the same sort of thing. He let his breath out in a shuddering sigh and she laid a hand on the back of his neck. "He didn't have a barcode," she said. 

"You saw him?" Krit's dark eyes met hers hopefully but she had to shake her head. 

"I couldn't. Zack told me." 

"That's okay," he said. 

"I'm sorry, Krit." 

"It wasn't your fault." He pulled her closer as her tears started again. "It's okay, Syl, shshsh." But the soothing sounds he was making didn't help at all, because he'd started crying just as hard as she was, if not harder. She sobbed into his chest, her tears hot against his shirt. "I love you, Syl," he whispered in a sad voice. She sighed, leaned against him, closed her eyes. 

"I love you, too," she whispered back, then hesitated before going on. "I would have liked to have had a baby with you, Krit." As soon as she said the words she knew they were true, and a stabbing pain went through her heart. Her tears came harder. Krit wrapped his strong arms around her, his warmth comforting against her body. 

"Are you staying?" he asked softly. A few months ago she would have said, _No, no way, I'm leaving tomorrow._ It would have been easier to say that, for both of them. But as Syl gazed up at his sad but hopeful face, the love in his dark eyes, her expression softened and she almost smiled. Who needed easy? 

"I love you," she whispered again, turning her face against his neck and giving him a soft kiss behind his ear. "And I should have stayed a long time ago."   



	18. Chapter 17

"You've said it again, that this relationship has to be the weirdest and best one you've ever been in," Brin was saying. "But I have yet to really hear juicy details." Syl laughed, coiling the telephone cord around her wrist, lying on her bed with her legs hanging over the edge. 

"It's great," she said. "These last few months have been... great. But it's also just so... weird." 

"Come on, you're killing me! Tell me more," came the order. Syl could just see her eyes sparkling back in California. 

"I miss you, Brinny," she said. 

"I miss you, too. Now really, tell me everything." 

"Well, we finally moved into a bigger place than just his one-room boy-apartment. I have my own bedroom." 

_"Do_ you? That is weird." 

"I know!" 

"Well, do you always sleep in it?" she asked next. Syl flushed. 

"No..." 

"Ah," Brin laughed. "I see, so it's a psychological comfort thing. Krit's smarter than I thought. Last we talked you said you hated that waitress job. Did you quit?" 

"Yeah. Krit bounces at a bar and he got me a job there last week." 

"What, as another bouncer?" 

"No." Syl laughed. "That would be a bit too conspicuous. As a bartender. It's about all I can get without my high school diploma, and it pays well. I've done it before." 

"Yeah, that's all good. But you left out the best part. This means you and Krit get to work _and_ play together." 

"Brin!" 

"I'm sorry, but I just can't get the adorable image of you guys out of my head." 

"You mean the dirty image," Syl teased. 

"I'm shocked that you would think that," Brin quipped back. _"Shocked."_ They both laughed. 

"How's Zane doing? I haven't talked to him in at least two weeks." 

"He's good. He still misses you a lot. Not that I don't," Brin added quickly. 

"Yeah, I feel bad about leaving so suddenly." 

"Why did you, anyway? I just called like always and you weren't there. It took Zack weeks to call us and say you'd left, but he wouldn't tell us where you went. We were worried sick, you know." Syl grimaced with remorse. 

"I'm really sorry, Brin. I just had some stuff to take care of." 

"Don't worry about it," she said after a moment. "It's done. You had Krit and Syl stuff," her sister said solemnly, then laughed again. "Really, you two are so cute." Syl flushed. 

"Thanks," she said dryly, but there was a blushing grin on her face. 

"Zane says the four of us have to get together. So when are you going to live up to your promise to come and see me?" 

"I was thinking soon. Like in a week or a couple of days." 

"Bring Krit. We'll have a little get-together. Maybe Jondy will come. Tinga, if she can." 

"Oh, yeah, Zack'll love that." 

"We won't tell him," Brin answered. Syl smiled, wished it were that simple. 

"Sounds like fun," she said. She heard a male voice in the background on Brin's end and waited. 

"Sorry about that," her sister came back a moment later. "Greg and I are going out to dinner, so I really should say goodbye now." 

"Okay, I should go too." 

"Bye, Syl. See you next week." 

"Definitely. Bye." Syl hung up, disentangled herself from the telephone cord, and left her bedroom in search of Krit. Their apartment wasn't huge, so it took her about two seconds to find him in the living room, watching television and reading a book. She knew he was absorbing both at the same time; the ability to easily multitask was a good advantage to being an X5. She walked up behind him and ran a hand along his arm in a greeting as she flopped onto the sofa beside him. He reached out a hand and entwined his fingers with hers as he read and the television blared. Syl smiled, leaned into his embrace, drooping her arm over his book. He laughed, reached down and swept the hair from her face, kissed her forehead. She found his lips with hers and the book fell from his hands, hitting the floor and closing. 

"Syl," he murmured into her mouth. "You made me lose my place." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, pulling back, pouting. He winked at her. 

"I know a way you can make it up to me." 

"But I just got dressed," she complained. 

"That was over an hour ago," he purred back, reaching his arms around her back, coaxing her closer as he pulled at her t-shirt. "You've been blabbing to Brin for at least that. You barely even let me say hello." Her shirt hit the floor and he kissed her again, his hands pulling at the clasp of her bra. She ran her own hands up his arms, over his chest, felt his heat through his thin shirt, pulled at the hem of it. She broke away from him long enough to pull it over his head and then found his full lips again with hers, hardly letting him breathe. 

"I think," he murmured as his lips bathed her neck in kisses. "Brin is the best thing that's happened to our sex life." Syl pulled back a little, surprised. She laughed. 

"What?" 

"You always want to go at it right after you hang up with her," he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "Is there something you're not telling me?" 

"Very funny," she said, rolling her eyes and giving him a little smack on the head before reaching down to pull off his shoes. "And you're the one who initiated this particular session, Krit." 

"Oh, that's right." His sneakers clonked to the ground and he reached for her, settling her into his lap, kissing her again. After a minute or so Syl pulled back and looked at him. 

"She makes me feel better," she told him. Krit struggled between his desire for her and wanting to make sure she knew he valued what she was saying. He nodded. 

"That's good," he said. Syl wanted to say more, about how Brin was exactly everything Zack could never be, someone she could pour her feelings out to without worrying about how she felt or if she would blame herself for Syl's problems. As much as she loved Zack, it was hard to talk to him when he was always so guilty for everything that had ever happened to her. Brin was a relief- a comforting, wonderful relief. Brin was her emotional saviour. Now, smiling at Krit, she decided she would tell him all that later, or maybe not at all. He was looking absolutely tortured and adorable as hell trying not to show it. She laughed, leaned forward in his arms again, kissed him, let him tug off her jeans. His own pants were lost somewhere on the way to his bedroom and the rest of their clothes dropped to the floor before they tumbled into bed together. 

"God, I love you, Syl," Krit murmured in her ear. She smiled, found his hand, squeezed it. 

"I love you, too," she whispered back. Then she remembered her conversation with Brin and the plan to go back to California the next week; unfortunately, she always seemed to forget things like that and remembered them at the most awkward times, like now. "Krit?" 

"Mmm?" 

"Speaking of Brin-" she started. He glanced up at her, his dark eyes filled with surprise. 

"Syl, not now," he said sweetly. "Talking about sisters during sex is kind of a turn-off." 

"Right." She flushed. "Sorry. Remind me when we're done." 

"Okay," he promised, kissing her tenderly before raising his head and smiling down at her. His hands were warm and soft against her skin, his breath ticklish, his eyes watching her with such love in them that she couldn't keep the fluttering out of her heart. Krit kissed her lips, her eyelids, her cheek, moved down against her neck and collar bones. 

"Krit, wait. Get something first." 

"I've got it," he said gently, pausing for a moment to show her. She nodded, a little sad that she had to worry about that. She was fairly certain that she couldn't get pregnant when she wasn't in heat, but she didn't want to risk it and she wasn't ready for them to try for another baby just yet. 

  
"Brin," Syl said afterward, a smile on her face as Krit held her in his arms. "She wants you to come to California when I go and see them. She wants to have a little party." 

"Just the three of us?" 

"Nope, Zane too. And possibly Jondy and Tinga." 

"Sounds great. I haven't seen Jondy in forever." 

"I thought you'd be up for it." She pulled him close, rested her head against his bare chest, gave him a soft kiss. "Though Zack isn't going to be so pleased," she added, smirking. 

"Why do you always listen to Zack?" he asked softly. She raised her eyes to him questioningly. "I mean, you never even protest." He smiled. "You should at least protest. I know he pisses you off as much as the rest of us sometimes." She smiled back a little, stroked her hands over his arms and chest in lazy circles. Her smile faded slightly but she tried not to show it. 

"You have no idea who much I owe Zack," she said softly. "He helped me once, a long time ago. I was in a bad situation." Her heart leapt with fear as she considered for the first time telling him her secret, all of it. 

"He's helped all of us," Krit answered, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder. Syl frowned but he didn't see it with his head bowed. She sighed inwardly, the thought of sharing gone immediately. It wasn't worth the risk of him not understanding. 

"Not like that," she answered simply. 

"Don't cry," he murmured, his eyes concerned as he reached up to sweep away the tear that had slipped unbidden down her cheek. She shrugged. 

"Anyway," she said uncomfortably. "That was a long time ago." Krit gazed at her for a moment, turned them so she could settle into his arms, their soft, warm bodies pressed together closely. After a long time she felt his chest heave in a slight sigh and he picked up her hand, kissing the backs of her fingers tenderly. 

"Syl?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Want to go again?" he asked, his voice impish, trying to lighten the mood. It worked. She raised her eyebrows at him, pulled back to smirk into his face, knowing that he wasn't kidding. She was reminded again of possibly the best advantage of an X5 boyfriend over a regular man. Syl grinned, wrapped her arms around him, tipped his chin up. She sighed and kissed him and couldn't think of anything better than this.   



	19. Chapter 18

Zack was so unimpressed with Brin's decision to have a party that he attended it. Syl walked into the house with Krit and saw him hovering near the window like an annoyed troll. She gave Brin a hug and smiled at Zack. 

"Glad you could make it," she said. He grunted and Syl laughed, going into the kitchen with Brin and Krit to put away the wine they'd bought on their way in. 

"I asked my roommates to clear out for the weekend," Brin explained as she tried to make room in the fridge. "So that means we have three beds plus the hideabed in the study. And Jondy can't come, not that she would have used a bed anyway... So that _would_ have been right," she cast a good-natured glare at Zack, who had joined them in the kitchen. "But _someone_ came unexpectedly." 

"I'll sleep on the couch," he spoke up. Brin nodded. 

"Yes you will." She winked. 

"If I stay," he added. 

"If you sleep," Zane clarified as he came down the stairs. Syl agreed; there was no way Zack was going to leave until they did. Zane gave her a hug and smiled at Krit, hoisting himself onto the kitchen counter. 

"Why can't Jondy come?" Syl asked. She'd been looking forward to seeing her; years had passed since the last time they'd really gotten to talk. Though she didn't always enjoy her sister's company, she'd missed her. 

"She's got something she has to take care of," Zack said. Syl made a mental note to ask him about that later. 

"Is Tinga bringing her son?" Krit asked. 

"She said maybe." Brin smiled. "I sure wish she would, I've never met him." 

"He's beautiful," Syl spoke up, smiling. Krit touched her hand. 

"It depends on her husband, I guess," Brin continued. 

"If she's smart she'll leave him at home," Zack said. 

"If you're smart you won't say that to Tinga," Zane answered, rolling his eyes. Zack frowned. 

"Tell me about your girlfriend, Zane," Syl said. Zane got that dreamy expression on his face she had seen so many times and she smiled. They went into the living room and sat down. 

"She's great," he said. "Her name's Vanessa. She's a cop." 

"I heard," Syl said, winking at him. He flushed a little. 

"Well, Zack here doesn't like it," he started, and Zack frowned. "But I just told her it's a tattoo and that was good enough for Vanessa. As for all the other stuff, I just act like a normal guy around her." 

"It's not so bad, hiding your abilities, huh?" Even as Brin said it she sounded very sad. Zane reached over and touched her arm. 

"Don't you ever itch to use your training, though?" Krit asked. 

"I use it all the time," Zack spoke up. They all rolled their eyes. 

"Well lucky you," Zane laughed. Brin waved her hand at them in a dismissing manner. 

"Ugh, no thank-you," she said. "That would just be one more complication I don't need." She frowned. "I'm having a serious case of stress right now. I've been really tired, and I woke up a couple of mornings ago and I had a white hair. _A white hair."_

"Huh," Zane said. "That is stressed." He reached for Brin's long dark hair and started poking through it, searching. She gave a little squeal and squirmed away from his hands, pressing herself as close to Syl as she could get, glaring at him. He laughed. 

"It's gone _now,"_ she huffed. "I ripped it out." 

"Ouch," Krit remarked. 

"Yeah, well, there's no way I'm looking like an old lady at twenty-one years old, thank you very much. I just need a vacation I guess. Maybe my boss will give me some time off work." 

"Sounds like you need it," Syl said. Zack opened his mouth to add something but the front door opened. None of them ever knocked. 

"Hello!" Tinga called. "Am I late?" 

"Nope, I'm flexible," Brin answered as her sister entered the room, holding her son in her arms. Brin almost clapped with happiness. "Oh, good, you brought him!" Tinga smiled. 

"Yeah. He really wants to get down, too. It was a long drive." She glanced around, smiled at everyone, scrutinizing the room. "Have you child-proofed the house?" she asked. Brin thought about that for a moment. 

"Yeah, everything's good," she said, going through a checklist in her mind. "I removed everything that looked dangerous and I asked Zane to empty the gun-drawer." None of them looked surprised at this, as they all had similar drawers at home, but Zane suddenly sat up straighter and his smile faded. 

"Right," he said. "I _knew_ there was something I forgot." He got up and quickly hurried from the room, away from Brin's icy glare that was only half-serious. 

"The one thing I asked you to do!" Brin yelled after him. She smiled at Tinga. "Sorry. Otherwise everything's safe. No chemicals, pointy things, heights, or bombs." 

"Good." Tinga put the toddler down on the floor, and he stared up at all of them with large eyes. Brin smiled and knelt in front of him. 

"Hi, Case," she said. "I'm Brin." His eyes got wider. 

"You're a princess," he said. Brin looked momentarily bemused, then smiled and touched his soft dark hair. 

"Well, thanks, sweetie," she said cheerfully. Tinga flushed a little. 

"It's just a story I told him," she explained. She let Case wander around the room a little, smiling after him with an expression that made Syl's heart tremble. Then Tinga caught sight of Zack and her smile briefly faded. 

"It's been a long time since you've seen him," she said. The others looked surprised, not knowing that Zack had ever seen him, but Syl knew he had gone when Case had first been born. 

"Yeah," he said as Case came to stop in front of him, staring up at Zack's imposing figure. 

"Hi," he said. He reached up, tugged on Zack's pant-leg. "Come down." 

"Case," Tinga warned. "Come here, okay, baby?" 

"No, it's alright," Zack said after a moment. He crouched down so he was Case's height, smiled a little awkwardly at the boy. 

"Case, sweetie, you remember your uncle Zack," Tinga said without really expecting him to answer, since he'd been a baby the last time Zack had visited him. 

"Yes," he said. At that, Zack and Tinga both looked slightly worried and exchanged a grave look. 

"You shouldn't have brought him here," Zack said, straightening. The boy kept staring up at him, fascinated, afraid. Zack reached out, laid a hand on the boy's head. Syl could remember him doing that a thousand times with the rest of them when they were children. Zack was, of course, very good with kids; she always forgot that. For the first time she wondered if he ever thought about having any of his own. She sighed. Case was beautiful and painful. He was Tinga's son and he was hers, haunting her. She shivered. 

"You okay?" Krit asked softly, his hand on hers making her jump slightly. She turned to him, smiled, shrugged. 

"I'm fine," she said. She raised her eyes to his. "You?" 

"It's kind of hard," he admitted. She nodded and he kissed her cheek tenderly. 

"Oh," Zane said as he reentered the room. "So Brin _wasn't_ lying." He winked. "You two are an item?" Syl flushed a little with happiness as Krit nodded. Zane smiled. 

"That's great." 

"We should make this a weekly occurrence," Brin said. 

"What, talking about Krit and Syl's love life?" Tinga smiled as Brin rolled her eyes. 

"No," she said, smiling back. "Getting together like this. It's fun." 

"I'm up for that." 

_"Weekly?"_ Zack asked in a grating voice. They all laughed. 

"Can't you smile?" Case asked him a moment later. 

"Case," Tinga said gently. "That's rude, baby." Syl was sad to see how worried she was about Zack judging her son. He loved the boy, couldn't she see that? He just didn't really know what to do with him. 

"I can smile," he said, and gave the boy a small one, his eyes still so serious that it made the rest of them laugh out loud. Then Zack frowned, but that was only funnier. 

  
"We should play strip poker," Zane suggested some time later when the conversation had died down. Tinga touched Case's hair and said, "I think not." Krit and Syl laughed and Brin, being Brin, was up for anything and looked mildly interested. 

"No," Zack said, standing up. He glanced at Syl, frowned, and left the room. She sent a puzzled look after him but he disappeared into Brin's bedroom. 

"Well." Zane grinned. "That settles that I guess. He's no fun. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked thousands of times." 

"That was when we were little children who didn't know better," Brin chided. Syl glanced over and smiled at her sister. She looked at Zane, who was rolling his eyes and giving Brin a little poke on the shoulder. Krit's hand started lazily threading through Syl hair, and as she watched Zane's toned muscles ripple under his t-shirt his beautiful dark eyes found hers and widened. 

Syl froze. She stood up and pulled away from Krit, hurrying into the kitchen to splash cold water on her face. The icy liquid calmed her for a moment and she stood there, taking deep breaths. Her skin pricked as she felt someone approaching from behind, hanging in the doorway. She turned around. 

"Zane," she said quietly. "Go away." He didn't move. She started panicking. Her legs moved her toward him, her hips swaggering suggestively though she didn't want them to. Zane's eyes were fixed longingly on her body. Syl was terrified; she did not want to be in the same apartment with three male X5s when she was in heat. It had never happened before but she was sure it would be a bad, bad, _bad_ situation. 

"Zane," she said again. "Go _away."_

"I can't," he answered as she stopped in front of him, his arms reaching out for her. She tried to bring her own hands up to shove him away, but they touched his face instead and she knew he was about to kiss her. His eyes were panicked; Zane had probably never been in this situation, and there was no doubt that he considered her a sister. Zane fell in love with every girl he'd ever met; if this happened it would be disaster for their relationship. Syl wanted to pull back, to cry, to smack him as hard as she could, or for him to smack her, but her fingers rested against his warm cheek instead and his eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into her touch. He took a deep breath that shook when he let it out. 

"Zane," she whispered in a voice filled with fear. His eyes opened, panicked, and his face leaned toward hers. 

At that moment, Zack entered the room. Zane and Syl tore their eyes from each other long enough to see that Zack was carrying her jacket and averting his eyes from her, his fists clenched. That's why he'd left the room; he'd known. Syl was incredibly relieved at that thought, but then he approached her and she managed to back away. 

"Zack, don't," she said. If he came any closer, Zane might attack him; she could see her brother was looking very agitated at having someone step between them but because it was Zack he was hesitant about what to do about it. Zack didn't stop. He held her jacket out and she put it on, her hand brushing his wrist as she took it, feeling his pulse racing and his blood surging beneath his skin. She almost leaned toward him, but somehow managed to stop herself. Zack stepped back with an amazing feat of self-control and called for Krit. Syl and Zane both looked momentarily surprised that they hadn't thought of that, but Zane also looked angry. She shivered and a moment later Krit had entered the room, Brin close behind him, drawn by Zack's uneasy tone. Krit looked at his two brothers, saw their tense stances, and then his eyes fell on her and widened. 

"Did anything happen?" he breathed, starting toward her. 

"No, not yet," Zane managed. 

"Just leave," Zack said, stepping in front of him. "Don't go over there." Krit stopped, glanced at Zane, then met Zack's eyes, dark and dangerous. He backed away a little and Syl was glad; she knew if they both attacked him, he would lose. He turned back toward the door, and Syl could see it took a lot of self-control for him not to approach her. She hung back against the counter, watching Zack and Zane where they stood between her and the door. Luckily, Brin took charge. She grabbed Zack's arm and forcefully dragged him from the room, which would have been funny if Syl hadn't been in her present state. Unfortunately, in Brin's absence Zane started toward her again. Syl tried to call out for her sister but she didn't have enough resistance in her to form the words, let alone speak them. Zane's lips came down on hers and her arms threaded around his back, pulling him closer. 

It was perfect. It wasn't strange or disgusting or creepy like she would have thought. He was fulfilling every primal instinct she had at the moment, a beautiful man in good shape who was just as insistent as she was right now. She deepened the kiss, sighing into his lips, everything else forgotten. The kiss couldn't have lasted more than ten seconds. 

"Zane!" Brin's voice shrieked from the doorway suddenly. Syl felt Brin's hands wrap between their bodies, around Zane's stomach, trying to pull him away from her. Their lips separated for a moment as his leg shot out and kicked Brin a little; it wasn't enough to hurt her, he still had that much control, but it was enough to send her slamming into the opposite wall. 

"What's wrong?" Zack called from the other room. 

"No, you stay there!" she yelled back, gathering herself. "Tinga!" 

"I'm on it," her voice came. Then, in the same soothing one she used for Case, "Zack, just sit here beside me, okay? Just stay here." Syl heard his muttered response and was relieved when he didn't enter the room. Zane had gone back to kissing her, and he pressed her up against the kitchen wall and deepened the kiss, his hands pulling at her clothes. She encouraged him with a little sigh and reached for the hem of his t-shirt, not caring where they were or who he was to her anymore. 

There was a sharp crack and Zane gasped into her lips and pulled back, eyes wide with pain. He turned and they saw Brin standing behind him in full attack stance, having just cracked one of his ribs with a well-placed kick. His eyes darkened with anger and he threw a punch at her, a real one, not at all easy. She dodged it but barely. 

"Brin," he growled. "Get the hell out of here." Syl was slowly regaining her senses after recovering from the shock of his body's sudden absence. She saw her jacket on the floor and picked it up, throwing it on quickly, heading for the door. Zane got distracted as he saw her leaving and reached for her, and Brin took that opportunity to kick him back against the far wall. Syl made it to the door, pulled it open, but paused as she heard a crack. She saw Brin on the floor, her face clouded with pain, blood bright against the white linoleum of the kitchen. Zane was standing over her, ready to land another blow as soon as she stood up. It took every ounce of self-control in Syl's body not to reenter the kitchen, and it wasn't just out of concern for her sister; Zane proving his strength like that was absolutely intoxicating and that fact both excited and disgusted her. 

"Zack!" she yelled through gritted teeth. "Tinga! Get in here right now!" She was afraid Zane would kill Brin if no one helped her. As soon as she heard them hurrying for the room, she ducked out into the corridor and shut the door behind her. 

"What took you so long?" Krit's strained voice came, startling her. She glanced down and saw him sitting on the floor, on his hands. She smiled a little and sat next to him. 

"Sorry." 

"I was about to go back in for you," he said. 

"That wouldn't have been a good idea." At his concerned look, she said, "Don't worry, I'm sure everything's fine now." 

"Did you know that was going to happen?" 

"No, my cycles have been all screwed up since the baby. They aren't regular anymore." She glanced at him, clenched her fists. "Krit, can was talk about this later? I really need to just go somewhere with you." 

"Sure," he said. "Zack gave me the keys to Zane's place. Let's go." 

"Great," Syl groaned as he pulled her up and she followed him. "That's the last thing I need, going somewhere with Zane's scent all over it." Krit's hand found hers as they hurried down the corridor and squeezed. 

"Don't worry," he said. "There won't be anything left of it when we're done." Syl was still enough in her right mind to blush at that statement. She stopped him for a moment, then reached over and kissed him, long and deep. He pulled back suddenly and his eyes were hurt. 

"What?" 

"You kissed Zane?" 

"You can taste that?" she asked. He nodded. "I was going to tell you after," she said gently, placing a hand on his chest. "I didn't want it to spoil the mood." After a moment a slow smile spread over his face. 

"I don't think anything could do that," he said, pulling her close again. She nudged him toward the stairs of Brin's apartment building. 

"Let's go," she said, low, almost purring. "I hope Zane doesn't mind giving up his apartment for three or four days." 

"I doubt he had a say in the matter," Krit said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He took her hand and hurried them toward the exit.   



	20. Chapter 19

_"We'll kill him if you don't tell us. We'll kill you. All of them." She never heard the voice; it was always disembodied, coming from the walls, the floor, everywhere, with no emotion to it, every syllable pronounced exactly the same. _

"Where is he?" she demanded, her hands shaking, her wrists sliced open where she'd been struggling against her restraints for days. Ben had once gone to psy-ops, after Jack died and they took the Blue Lady away. He didn't come back the same. 

There was no answer to her question; the voice only answered when it wanted to. Sometimes she even wondered if it was really there at all. And how long had she been here? A week? A month? Her whole life? 

The threats were repeated every day: "We'll kill him. All of them." She tried to ignore it, to tell herself that was ridiculous, they wouldn't execute them, they were worth so much to Lydecker... but after many days, how long she didn't really know, Syl broke down and cried. 

"Don't hurt him," she called. "Krit hasn't done anything. None of them have. I _did it!" _

"Yes," it said. "You killed X5-376." 

"It was an accident." Her voice shook. 

"Was it?" 

"Yes!" 

"But you weren't designed to miss. You weren't trained to miss." 

"I... the bird. It scared me. I didn't-" 

"Or maybe you wanted him dead?" The voice was sickly pleasant. 

"No!" 

"Maybe he was a better soldier than you, maybe you were jealous?" 

"No! It was an accident! It was the bird!" 

"What bird?" 

"The bird! The black one I was trying to shoot! I've told you!" 

"There wasn't any bird. Your other unit members testified that there wasn't." 

"What? No... it was there, I saw it. We all saw it." 

"There was no bird." 

"Yes there was!" 

"There was no bird." 

"Yes! I know, I saw it..." Confused tears clouded her vision, slipped down her cheeks. She pulled against the restraints. Her hair was limp and stuck to her clammy forehead like straw. The lights went off, casting her in darkness, then shot on again three seconds later, so bright they scalded her eyes. This would go on all night, never giving her eyes time to adjust properly so they were always in pain, and she was always blind. It took hours to get to sleep, and whenever she was about to drift off she thought she saw a raven flying in the corner of the room, just out of her line of vision, and she couldn't sleep. She was bathed in sweat, soaked in her own filth, terrified, anxious, her hands shaking with so many seizures she didn't know why she hadn't died yet. 

  
Syl sat bolt upright, breathing hard, the sheets clenched tightly in her fists. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and brought a hand up to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Glancing down, she smiled weakly into Krit's dark eyes. 

"Sorry I woke you," she said. He reached for her, pulled her down close against him, rocking her a little as though she were a small child. After living with her for so long, he was used to these nightmares by now. 

"What was it this time?" he asked gently. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and let her breath out in a shuddering sigh, allowing herself to relax into his embrace. 

"I was just remembering that day... the raven..." She watched Krit's eyes cloud over and knew he recalled it as plainly as she did. Another memory rose unbidden; before the awful events of her dream. After the raven... before psy-ops... 

  
_"What happened out there, 701?" Lydecker barked. _

"It was an accident, sir!" Syl said loudly, staring straight ahead, the nine others who had been out on the mission doing the same from their places in line. "An accident?" Lydecker growled. 

"Yes sir! I was shooting at a bird. I missed." 

"Why were you shooting at a bird?" 

"I thought it was the enemy, sir." 

"This exercise had no enemy forces." 

"'Always assume there are enemy forces,' sir," she said, quoting from one of their classes. Lydecker gave an approving dip of his head, then became stern again. 

"I've lost an X5 because of your mistake," he said. Syl swallowed the lump in her throat. 

"Lost, sir?" 

"He's dead, soldier," Lydecker barked. 

"It was an accident," she said again, her voice shaking slightly. A tear slipped down her cheek and beside her she felt Krit stiffen slightly with fear. 

"Why are you crying, soldier?" he asked. She glanced over at Zack, panicked; he looked at her fearful eyes and took a step forward. 

"Sir-" 

"Back in line, 599!" Lydecker roared. "No one told you to speak." He looked at her again, repeated icily, "Why are you crying?" 

"Because I killed-" she broke off, frightened. 

"Go on, soldier!" he yelled right next to her face, causing her to jump. She said nothing, more tears rolling down her cheeks. "If you don't tell me, 701, I'll send you to psy-ops. They can get anything out of you down there, is that what you want?" Psy-ops. Where the nomlies will drink my blood until- 

_"No, sir!" _

"Then tell me why you're crying or I'll send you there right now." After another pause, she stiffened, spoke in a shaky voice. 

"Because I killed my brother, sir!" she answered; the other nine children tensed and there was a long, frightening silence. 

"Who taught you that word?" Lydecker finally asked, his voice surprisingly soft. 

"I don't remember, sir," she said. It was true, but he wasn't buying it. He marched over to Zack, stopped in front of him. 

"599, have you heard that word before?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Do you consider yourself 701's brother?" he asked; Zack hesitated. 

"Yes, sir," he said finally, sounding defeated. 

"And the others, you're their brother too?" 

"Yes, sir," Zack said again. Lydecker stared at him for a long time, and Zack stared straight ahead. Then Lydecker motioned for one of the guards in the room to step forward. 

"Take her to psy-ops," he said; the guard clamped his hand around Syl's small arm and she struggled against him. 

"But I told you, sir!" she yelled, terrified. "I told you why I was crying!" 

"You killed one of my soldiers, 701!" Lydecker answered. "You need to be punished." Syl struggled against the man again and another one came over, grabbed her other arm. They dragged her toward the door, tears streaming down her face, fighting them at every inch, terrified. Zack stepped forward, his eyes as fearful as the others' were; Max started to reach out a hand to pull him back, then stopped herself. 

"Back in line, 599!" Lydecker yelled. 

"Zack, help me!" Syl screamed, trying still to pull away as they reached the door and the guards started unlocking it, still holding her. 

"Hold on," Lydecker ordered the men; they stopped but one kept his grip on her arm. Lydecker marched over to her. "What did you say?" Syl realized what she'd done and panicked, her eyes darting to the others, who had all tensed with fear at her words. "Eyes front, 701!" Lydecker barked. "What did you say? Answer me!" 

"Zack, sir," she said, defeated. 

"Zack," Lydecker echoed her. "Who were you talking to?" 

"599, sir." 

"Why did you call him that?" he asked. Syl hesitated, tried to think of something, failed. 

"It's his name, sir." 

"His name?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Do you have a name, 701?" 

"Yes, sir," she said, shaking with fear now. There was a short silence. 

"What is it?" 

"Syl, sir." 

"Syl," he repeated, his voice low with anger and something else she couldn't read. He reached beside him, grabbed Krit's shoulder, hauled him over to stand at attention beside her. "And 471, what's his name?" 

"Krit, sir." 

"And 205?" he asked, pointing. 

"Zane, sir." She was close to tears again. Lydecker stared at her. 

"Who's responsible for these names, 701?" he asked. Syl could smell the fear emanating from every one of her brothers and sisters; names were secret, and how they had come about was certainly secret as well. "Who's responsible, soldier?" Lydecker yelled when she didn't answer. Then she did the smartest thing she'd ever done in her life. 

"Bram," she said, naming her brother now dead. "X5-376." She saw in Zack's eyes how proud he was as Lydecker stared at her, disgusted, then jerked his head at the men near her. 

"Take her," he said. She panicked again, fought them as they unlocked the door. 

"Zack!" she screamed again. 

"X5-599!" Lydecker yelled back. 

"Zack, Krit, help me!" 

"Their designations are 599 and 471!" Lydecker roared. 

"Zack!" she screamed; he stepped out of line, started toward her. Lydecker whirled on him, glared. He hesitated before the imposing man they all feared. "Zack," Syl whispered pitifully. "I don't want to disappear." His features hardened and he tried once more to shoulder past Lydecker. 

"Get back, _soldier," he growled. Confusion, fear, and determination were written in Zack's features. Lydecker jerked his head at one of the guards. "Get them out of here. All of them." The guard opened the door and the children turned and started filing out. Only Max, Krit, and Zack hung back. _

"Syl-" Krit called, uncertain, afraid. 

"Get him out of here!" Lydecker barked; the guard roughly grabbed Krit's shoulder and shoved him out of the room. Max was thrown out next but Zack resisted, kicking and yelling. Syl's hands shook. 

"Syl!" he called. "They won't keep you down there forever! Don't forget who you are!" Then he told her a secret: "The nomlies aren't real." Syl managed a smile. Lydecker looked about ready to smack him. He said again, "Just don't forget who you are. You're not _701!" _

"I won't forget," she promised though she was still terrified. "I'm Syl." Beside her Lydecker was fuming and the guard managed to haul Zack from the room then, but it didn't matter. He'd said what she'd needed to hear. She turned toward the man next to her and followed him quietly to psy-ops, where they did horrible things to her. But she was Syl and she was loved and they couldn't change that no matter what they wanted to believe. 

  
"Severely lowered night vision capabilities," Syl murmured as she shook the painful memory away. She could only recall a fragment of what had been done to her in psy-ops, a tiny piece of it. The rest was clouded in pain and dreams. She glanced at Krit. "That's what I got from psy-ops. And the nightmares." He nodded, kissed her cheek. 

"I know." 

"I almost believed there wasn't a bird," she said quietly. 

Again he said, "I know. They did things to you there. Like Ben. He was never the same and neither were you." Pain crossed her features. 

"I almost forgot who I was... for a moment I really was 701, they made nothing but that number..." 

"It's okay," he whispered into her hair, trying to soothe her pain away. "It's over, you never have to go back there." She sighed a little, kissed him; he thought that all the nightmares she woke up with almost every night came from psy-ops? He didn't know the half of it. She met his dark eyes, opened her mouth to say more. But the phone rang before she could speak. Syl frowned; who would be calling at this hour? The clock on Zane's bedside table said 3:06am. She reached over Krit with a chill in her heart and picked up the receiver. 

"Hello?" 

"Syl." 

"Zack. What is it?" 

"Max," he said. 

"What about her?" 

"She's going to get herself killed." He sounded both angry, afraid, and almost excited. Syl realized what had happened. 

"You finally talked to her?" 

"She's just like I remember her. She doesn't listen," he said. Syl smiled a little into the phone, put her hand over the receiver. 

"Zack's complaining about Max," she told Krit. He smiled. 

"Is that Krit?" Zack asked. 

"Yeah." 

"Am I interrupting?" At that Syl laughed. 

"If you were I never would have answered the phone." She threaded her fingers through Krit's and smiled at him. "We were actually going to come out of seclusion tomorrow. But I guess we missed the whole party, huh?" 

"Zane's still with Brin, but yet, pretty much. Tinga went home." 

"Damn," Syl sighed. "I get all the bad luck." 

"You're in a good mood," he remarked. She smiled a little, raised the backs of Krit's fingers to her lips. 

"I guess." She leaned back in bed and his soft arm crept around her waist. "Tell me about Max. What does she look like?" 

"The same. You all look the same as you did before." At this Syl rolled her eyes; Zack had always placed no value on appearances. Neither did she, in a way, seeing how they were all designed to be beautiful. 

"So what did she do that's got you so annoyed?" 

"Lydecker's in Seattle where she is." 

"Seattle?" 

"Don't even think about it," he warned. Syl laughed. "I mean it," he said. "I said that to you in confidence." 

"Zack," she said. "Everything you say to me is in confidence." She smiled again, then sobered. "Why would she want to stay if he's there?" 

"I don't know. She's been looking for us, too. She tracked me down." 

"Why don't you tell her where we are, Zack?" Syl asked softly. "She and Ben-" 

"Are kept cut off for a reason," was his harsh reply. She let her breath out slowly. 

"Okay." 

"I'm going to be here for a while, try to figure out why she won't leave, make sure she doesn't get into any more trouble." 

"Was she happy to see you, Zack?" 

"Yeah." 

"Tell her where we are." 

"No, Syl," he said firmly. She let it go. 

"When will you be back?" 

"In a while. Listen, I'm going to be doing some reconnaissance here, so don't call me unless it's an emergency, okay?" 

"Sure." 

"Pass that on to the others, too." 

"I will." 

"Does Krit want to talk to me?" Zack asked. Syl turned to ask him, but he was peacefully asleep beside her. She smiled. 

"No, it's okay." 

"Alright. I'll talk to you later." 

"Say hi to Maxie for me." 

"Bye, Syl." 

"Bye." She sighed, put the phone down, turned into Krit's arms so she was facing him. She reached up and ran a hand through his dark hair, kissed him. In sleep he responded a little to her lips, but she stopped before it would wake him up, knowing they were both exhausted. In his arms she felt safe, so she fell back asleep with no fear of any more terrifying dreams or memories. At least not tonight.   



	21. Chapter 20

"You should have _seen_ him, Syl!" Brin said, fondness in her voice. "He looked so miserable that _I_ ended up apologizing to _him_ for getting punched in the face." She laughed. "Oh, it was great." 

"Poor Zane," she answered sadly. "I'm sure I really messed him up. I'll have to call him." 

"You should," Brin agreed. "He's alright though. He knows it wasn't exactly voluntary on either of your parts." She yawned. 

"Tired?" 

"As usual," Brin complained. "But don't worry about Zane." 

"Has he ever been in that situation before?" Syl asked. There was a short pause on the end of the line. 

"I don't know. Once, a long time ago..." She trailed off. 

"It's okay. You two are close. You don't have to say anything." 

"No, not _me!"_ Brin laughed. "Zane may be my best friend but we have never done anything like that, voluntary or otherwise." 

"Then who?" 

"Jondy, I'm guessing. Though it could have been Tinga... I'm not sure, he doesn't like to talk about it. You know Zane, he's very emotional." 

"He always thinks it's love," Syl agreed. "It's one of his cutest features." 

"Yeah." Brin sounded almost sad. "One of these days that guys going to fall hard." 

"Brin," she said. "He _always_ falls hard." 

"No, I mean for real. He's going to run into the one and... it'll just be cute." 

"What about you?" Syl asked. 

"I have the distinguished status of being the first one of us to ever go into heat," she said, yawning again halfway through the sentence. Syl's eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

"Really? I guess that makes sense, you're one of the oldest." 

"At least," she clarified. "I'm the only one who announced it when it happened." 

"How old were you?" 

"Fourteen." At that Syl was silent for a moment, knowing then that she herself had in fact been the first one to ever have gone into heat. But she wasn't ready to tell Brin anything about that. Suddenly her sister laughed. "You were there, you know." 

"What?" Syl sputtered. 

"Slept through the whole thing like a little baby. Good thing you did, too. I might have died of mortification." 

"When-" 

"Oh, we don't need to get into all this. It's in the past and the past is over and done with and all that. Tell me about you and Krit." 

"Brin-" 

"Syl." For once she sounded dead serious. "Really, I'm too tired to get into anything heavy. Change the subject." 

"Okay..." Syl frowned, wondered what secret her sister was hiding. She would have to ask her gently about it every week until she spilled. Sly launched into a mushy description of her and Krit's relationship, which Brin ate up like candy. 

"Oh, you guys are so cute!" she squealed once Syl was finished. 

"What about you and Greg?" 

"We've set a date!" Brin said excitedly. It was obvious she'd been bursting with that news all evening. 

"When?" Syl asked eagerly. 

"December 12th." 

"Wha- but I thought you wanted to wait until spring!" 

"His father is dying. He wanted him to be able to go to the wedding. Besides, what do I care? This is love. We don't want to wait any longer than necessary." 

"But that's in less than three weeks!" 

"I know. Will you be able to come?" 

"Brin! Of _course_ we'll come!" 

"I'll have to call Zack and tell him what's up so he doesn't feel the need to grumble." Brin laughed, and it dissolved into another yawn. "Dammit. I'm going to bed as soon as this conversation is over." 

"Okay," Syl laughed. Then she frowned. "Oh, about Zack... That might be a bit difficult." 

"Why?" 

"Well, that's one of the reasons I called. He doesn't want anyone to phone him unless it's a real emergency." 

"Oh. Well that's odd. He's kind of gone lax on that rule lately; I liked that." 

"You can always just leave a message on the contact number." 

"Yeah, but I hate that thing. It's so impersonal." Syl smiled at that; it was so Brin. 

"I know, but it's better than nothing." 

"Yeah, I guess so. So what is our darling brother up to that he's so busy?" 

"Max-business." 

"Where?" Brin demanded excitedly. 

"Sorry. I can't." Syl was genuinely sorry, but Zack told her his secrets because he knew she wouldn't blab them to anyone, not even their sister. Brin let her breath out in a sigh. 

"I guess that makes sense." 

"I'm really sorry, Brin." 

"It's okay. Really, I understand." There was a genuine smile in her voice. 

"Okay. So can the others come?" 

"Zane is, of course, coming. Jondy says she will if this mysterious 'stuff' she's up to finishes by then. Whatever that means." 

"I've been wondering about that, too. There's something strange going on." 

"You don't know what it is?" Brin sounded surprised. "God, if Zack won't tell you then it must be something big. I hope she's okay." 

"I'm sure she's fine," Syl assured her. "She's probably just..." She trailed off, frowned. "I actually can't even imagine." 

"Me neither," Brin admitted. "Anyway, I hope she's done whatever it is before the wedding, because I really want you all there. Tinga can come if she can make up an excuse for her husband." 

"Well, me and Krit are definitely coming," Syl assured her. 

"Where are we definitely going?" Krit asked as he entered the room, picking up Syl's hand and kissing it. He sat down next to her and handed her a glass of water. 

"Don't you guys work?" Brin asked. 

"Nights," Syl said. "Just a sec." She put her hand over the receiver. "Brin's wedding, December 12th." Krit brightened, grabbed the phone. 

"Brin, that's great!" 

"Hey!" Syl protested, only half-serious. 

"I never get to talk to you, either," Krit said to Brin, giving Syl a pointed look. "Yeah, she blabs too much. You like that? Oh... well, I guess I can let it go then. Yeah. Yeah. You tired? You sure? Okay. So tell me about how this happened. Oh, I see. Wow, so have you told everyone?" Syl watched him talk animatedly with Brin, liked the way he smiled big, the way he played with the telephone cord as he talked. It was very sexy, and as soon as he got off the phone... Syl took a sip of her water, flushed slightly. Krit was amazing if he could do that to her even when she wasn't in heat. She could barely remember back to when she'd been afraid of sex. 

"Oh, I see. Yeah, well I'm sure she'll think of something, Tinga's a smart girl. Maybe Case could even come, in a little tux." Krit smiled, then frowned. "Oh, I guess that's true. Yeah. Yeah. You should, he'll wanted to be completely apprised or he might- Yeah, I know. No, I just heard. He's in Seattle." When she heard him say that, Syl choked on her water. He glanced over at her, reached out absently and rubbed her back, which was incredibly cute but annoyed her to no end at the same time. She grabbed the phone from him. 

"Brin? I'm going to have to call you back." 

"Sorry, Syl." She was laughing. Syl glared into the phone, only half-serious. 

"I'll talk to you later." Then she hung up and turned to Krit, who realized he was in trouble but looked uncertain as to why. 

"What?" 

"How on Earth did you know Zack was in Seattle?" 

"I was sitting right there when he phoned." 

"I thought you were asleep!" 

"No, that was after," he explained patiently, his eyes sparkling mischievously at her. She let her breath out in a huff, then rolled her eyes and smiled at him. She leaned into his arms and stroked her hand down his soft, warm cheek. 

"Oh well," she said softly. "It's not as if Brin is stupid enough to go running up there to try to find her." Krit smiled, closed the small distance between them for a soft kiss. 

"Nope," he said, pulling back for a moment. "Brin's a smart girl. But man she sounded tired. She kept yawning into my ear." 

"Yeah," Syl answered absently, tugging at his clothes. He laughed softly. 

"Here's this pattern again," he teased, allowing her to pull his shirt off and run her hands over his warm chest. "You talk to Brin, and we-" She put a finger against his full lips, looked at him in a dark predatory manner through lowered lashes. His breath quickened subtly and he reached for her again, kissed her, pulled at her clothes. Syl grabbed his hand and pulled him up; Brin forgotten, they hurried into his bedroom and stayed there till evening came, when it was time to go to work. 

  
All the girls who came to the club where Krit and Syl worked thought it was very cute that their bartender and favourite bouncer were an item. The guys were less enthusiastic about it, mostly because they enjoyed the sport of chatting Syl up, which she didn't mind too much as long as they kept it clean. And if they didn't, she could always call Krit over to throw them out. It was a very nice arrangement. 

"Hey," Krit said to her as he sidled up to the bar, giving her a kiss. She smiled at him. 

"It's pretty quiet tonight," she remarked. 

"Yeah, but it'll get worse," he said. "It always does." She nodded, knowing this was the perfect job for him, one that allowed him to vent the temper he seemed to have inherited from Manticore in a completely legal way. Syl loved her job, too. She'd been tending bars off and on for a couple of years; it was one of the few jobs that paid well that she could get without a high school diploma and that hadn't suffered much during the Pulse. One of the few things the country hadn't lost was beer, and there were always plenty of people willing to pay for it. 

"Hey! Get the hell away from me!" a yell rose up from the other side of the room. Krit moved away and Syl turned her attention back to the bar. 

"Are you two together?" a young woman asked as Syl handed her a drink, her eyes wide and cheerful. Syl smiled. 

"Yeah." 

"That's so cute!" the girl exclaimed. 

"Thanks," she said genuinely, her smile widening. 

* * *

The phone rang a few hours after she and Krit had returned from work and tumbled into bed, exhausted. Syl groaned, opened her eyes, glanced over at Krit, who was still obliviously asleep. She smiled fondly at him and reached over him for the phone on their bedside table. 

"Hello?" she grumbled, yawning. 

"Did _you_ know what Ben was doing?" 

"Of course I did." 

"Well _I_ didn't." 

"Where have you been, Jondy?" Syl asked, rubbing her forehead. 

"With _Ben,_ of course." 

"Oh, so that was your 'stuff' Zack wouldn't tell me about." Syl laid down against Krit's shoulder and his arm hooked around her waist sleepily. 

"Who's that?" he asked, his eyes still closed. 

"Jondy," she said, putting a hand over the receiver. "She's called at three am to talk about Ben." Krit smiled. 

"Tell her to go to sleep," he joked, and promptly fell back asleep. Syl listened to her sister describing her encounter with Ben for a moment. 

"Wait," she interrupted. "Where was this?" 

"Here, in San Francisco. He was in California a while back for something and stuck around with me." Syl remembered her supposedly-imagined encounter with him at the hospital months before and frowned. "Was that Krit I heard?" 

"Yeah." 

"I really am out of the loop." 

"Hey, we invited you to two parties and you didn't show." Syl smiled, then frowned. "How is Ben?" 

"As good as anyone can be while killing people." Jondy sighed. "I'm worried about him. We have to help him." 

"We?" 

"You, me, Tinga, Krit, Zane, and Brin. It will be like an intervention, except instead of drugs or alcohol, we're going to tell him to stop killing people." Jondy seemed very pleased with herself. "And don't worry about Zack," she said, already reading Syl's mind. "He said not to call him while he was in Seattle, right? So we just won't." Syl was surprised. 

"That could work." 

"So you're up for it?" 

"Who else is?" 

"Tinga said she'll be there, and Zane of course. He's going to call Brin but he said she's been feeling tired lately so she might not come. But even if she doesn't, that's still five of us." 

"Ben is lonely," Syl said. "Zack doesn't let him see anyone." 

"I know." 

"He needs to know we love him." 

"Why is he killing people, Syl?" Jondy asked softly. 

"I don't know," she admitted. "I think it has something to do with the Blue Lady." There was a long pause. 

"Do you think she's real, Syl? Ben does." 

"I believe he does, yes. But I don't know if I ever believed in her." 

"You did, I remember." Jondy's voice was soft. "You believed in her the morning you went on that mission with the bird. But when you came back from psy-ops you didn't anymore. You gave up on her." Syl glanced down at her hands. 

"Don't talk about that, Jondy," she said. "You weren't there. You don't know." 

"You're never going to forgive me for that, are you?" she asked softly. "Tinga, Brin, Zane, Krit, Zack, Max... they were all there. But I wasn't, so I don't get to sympathize. Bram was my brother too, you know." 

"Jondy," Syl said, clearing her throat. "Hang on while I wake Krit up." There was a short silence, and then her sister agreed, her voice flat. Syl put her hand over the receiver and shook his shoulder. His eyes opened slowly. 

"Jondy wants us to go to-" She paused and spoke back into the phone, "Where is he? Chicago still?" 

"No, he's in New York City now." 

"Okay." She turned back to Krit. "She wants us to go to New York with her and Tinga and Zane so we can knock some sense into Ben." Krit brightened. 

"Sounds good to me," he said. 

"We're up for it," Syl told Jondy. "When do we leave?" 

"Soon. Tomorrow. As soon as I've heard from Brin I'll call you." 

"Then we'd better go, because unlike you we must sleep." Syl smiled. "Do you want to talk to Krit before I hang up?" 

"No, that's okay, I'll see him tomorrow." 

"Alright. Bye, Jondy." 

"Bye, Syl." They hung up, and Syl settled back into Krit's arms. He kissed her forehead and let a hand slip idly through her hair. 

"I can't sleep," she said after a long time. He pulled back and looked at her. 

"Me neither." 

"I'm not in the mood for anything, though," she continued, smiling and laying her head against his chest. He smiled back. 

"Me neither." They laid there in silence for a long time, listening to each other's breathing. Syl felt Krit hesitate and then he asked in a soft voice, "Do you ever think about Caleb?" She stiffened and rolled over, turning on her side to look at him. He did the same and she slowly nodded. Oddly, she didn't have to ask who he was talking about. 

"All the time." 

"I didn't think I would," he admitted. "I didn't even know he existed until after he was dead." She reached out and touched his hair. 

"I'm sorry." 

"No, that's not what I meant," he said, catching her hand and giving the backs of her fingers a kiss. "I just didn't think I would think about him as much as I do. I never even thought about having kids until you told me about him. Did you?" Syl looked away and said nothing for several seconds. She shrugged off his question, forced a sad smile. 

"I didn't realize you'd named him," she whispered. Krit averted his eyes. 

"Oh, Syl..." He sighed. "I know you didn't want to. I-" 

"Don't apologize," she interrupted gently. "He was your son too, you have a right." She looked into his eyes, leaned forward and kissed him. "Caleb," she said softly after she pulled back. "I like it." Krit's hand took hers. 

"Do you ever think about having a family, Syl?" His words were barely more than breath. She gazed at him sadly. 

"All the time." Her reply obviously surprised him, but after a moment he smiled. "I want a family," she said. "With you." 

"I want a family with you, too." He kissed her. 

"Not now. I'm not ready." 

"No," he agreed. "Not now." He folded her into his arms, laid his lips against her cheeks, her eyelids, kissed away her tears. "We have lots of time," he whispered.   



	22. Chapter 21

_She was back at Manticore, her featureless brothers and sisters around her, staring without eyes, unfeeling. She screamed and ran to Zack, taking his hands in hers. He looked at her but he didn't see the panic on her face so all he could do was hold her hand and not understand. _

"Zack!" she screamed, tears slipping hot down her cheeks. She shook his arm so hard his whole body stumbled. The huge statues came around the corner, running for her without feet, chasing her, somehow faster than she was. They were forcing her in the direction they wanted her to go, but she didn't want to go that way. She knew what was waiting for her there. 

"Zack!" she screamed. "Zack!" He just stood there, full-grown but still in his Manticore gown, unseeing. "Help me!" she yelled. He looked at her, somehow without eyes, spoke from a mouth that wasn't there. 

"I told you not to call me. I'm busy with Max." Then he faded into nothing and disappeared. Syl gaped at the spot he'd vacated. She turned and ran, away from the statues. She saw a door and went through it. Brin was there, looking just like she was supposed to, smiling, holding out her arms. 

"Brin!" Syl cried, falling into her embrace. Pain exploded through her and she pulled back. Brin had turned into Ben, with a sinister look on his face, a smile that was cruel. He'd plunged a knife into her side, and now he pulled it up and raised it again to slay her. 

"I'm happy," he kept saying. "Now you will be too." She backed away from him and screamed again, but no sound came out. She hurled the door behind her and the statues were there again, chasing her, always chasing her. She turned and ran and slammed into someone. It was Krit, with a face. He smiled down at her, took her shoulders, kissed her. He held up a small box, opened it, revealed a diamond ring. 

"Marry me," he said. 

"I can't, not now, they're chasing me." 

"Marry me," he said again. 

"Krit!" She reached for him, shook him. "They're chasing me!" The statues were getting closer. She grabbed his hand and started to run, but the ring fell to the floor and he stopped to pick it up. The statues loomed over him. "Krit!" she yelled. "Come on!" He turned to her, still bent, on one knee, and smiled. 

"Marry me," he said again. She gaped at him, took a step toward him, a step back. She bit her lip, the tears burning her cheeks. 

"I... I can't," she whispered. 

"Syl-" he said, but she turned and ran and only when she heard him screaming as he was murdered by the statues did she look. There was nothing left of his body, but the floor was running bright red with his blood. A scream caught in her throat as the statues moved on her again and she knew they would chase her where she didn't want to go. She sighed and wiped at her tears and walked into a big room with broken windows, the paint peeling on the walls and dead trees forming the landscape outside. The statues stopped outside and she closed the door. The air smelled like rotting dead things, and she saw the awfully-familiar huge bed in the corner, the sickly-cheerful rose petal design on the quilt, thorns jarring angrily from stems. She walked over. 

She saw herself at thirteen, but instead of being tied to the headboard she was sitting upright, looking out the window, her back to Syl. She walked over slowly and sat next to the girl, who turned to her, ventured a smile. She held out her arms and Syl looked down. 

"Caleb," the girl said, pulling aside the bundle of blankets in her arms to reveal a tiny, perfect baby, his dark hair and eyes staring up at her. A sob caught in Syl's throat and she reached for the child. The girl, her younger self, shrugged away. 

"No," she said. "He's mine. You gave him to me. You gave both of them to me, but I'm keeping this one." 

"Both of them?" Syl asked. The girl gestured without looking to the other side of the room, cooing softly at the baby in her arms. Syl turned, already knowing what she would see, and sure enough there was the baby girl on the floor, blood everywhere, against the walls, the curtains, staining bright. She turned back to the girl. 

"It was the other way around," she said. "He died. That one lived." The girl looked at her sharply. 

"Don't tell him that," she snapped. 

"It's true." 

"I'm taking him back and you can't stop us." 

"Back?" 

"Back home. To Manticore." 

"That's not home." Syl reached for the boy. "Give me my son." 

"Why, so you can hurt him again?" The girl smacked her hand away. "Like you hurt me? Like you hurt her?" She gestured at the dead baby. Syl opened her mouth to speak, but she heard heavy footsteps outside and paled. Her foster uncle was coming. 

"Come on," she said urgently. "We have to go." 

"You _did all of this!" Her younger self started sobbing and didn't move. "This is all your fault! You're supposed to be a soldier. Why the hell didn't you fight? Why didn't you save them? Why didn't you save_ me?" 

_"I tried! It wasn't my fault he made me leave!" _

"It's not his fault! You could have stayed behind! Not everyone went!" 

"I was afraid!" 

"When aren't you?" The girl's eyes flashed. She stood up and glared. The baby in her arms woke and started crying. "I'm ashamed to have to tell him who his mother is!" she yelled. "I'm ashamed to be you!" The girl smacked Syl hard and she stumbled. The baby's cries rose until the whole room was flooded with them. Then the door opened, but it wasn't her Uncle John who came in. 

"No!" the girl screamed. Syl tore her eyes away from Lydecker and saw with horror that Caleb was spitting up blood, choking on it. "You destroy everything you touch!" the girl screamed, sobbing. The baby fell dead from her arms and the child backed against the wall, screaming, her hands covered in blood. Syl blinked and Lydecker became the horribly familiar image of her foster uncle again. He advanced on the girl and reached for her, scratched at her stomach. Blood seeped out of the girl's torn womb and mixed with Caleb's on the floor. 

"Stop hurting us!" she screamed at Syl. "Stop hurting me and leave your children alone! Stop hurting Krit, you said you would protect him!" 

"I'm not-" Syl started, but the girl cut her off with a shriek as she was thrown onto the bed by her foster uncle. 

"Look at me!" her younger self screamed as he climbed over her. He gripped her throat. 

"Shut up," he snarled. 

Somehow, without a voice, the girl cried, "Save me!" Syl looked at the child. And she stood there. She didn't move. 

  
Syl's eyes snapped open and she released her breath shakily. When she adjusted to the darkness she glanced at Krit and passed her hand over his sleeping face and through his hair, smiling softly at him. She slipped out of bed and padded down the hall into the kitchen, splashed cold water on her face. The clock said it was 4:19am. Syl grabbed the phone, dialled. It rang eight times. 

"Hello?" Somehow Brin managed to sound cheerful even when annoyed. 

"It's Syl. I'm sorry." 

"Just a second." Brin was whispering. A moment later she said, "Okay, what's up?" 

"Is Greg there?" 

"It's alright, we were sleeping." 

"I'm sorry, Brin." 

"Syl," she said, her voice light and gentle at the same time. "It's okay. What's wrong?" 

"I had the dream again." 

"The faceless Zack dream?" 

"Yeah." 

"You haven't had that in a while. Why's it back?" 

"I don't know." 

"Are you stressed about anything? How are things with Krit?" 

"Great." She smiled a little. "Thanks to you mostly." 

"Yeah, yeah." Syl could hear the smile in her voice. 

"No, really," she said. "You're the best thing that's happened to this relationship. I never would have been able to get through all my screwed-up stuff without you, Brin." 

"It's an ongoing process." 

"Which is why I'm calling now," Syl agreed. "I'm so sorry." 

"Stop apologizing, it's okay, really! Now let's analyze this... so things are okay with you and Krit... You're not still stressing about the whole Zane thing are you?" 

"No, I called him and we talked it all out." 

"Okay, good. Hmm... are you pregnant?" At this, Syl paled. 

"I'd better not be. We've been careful." 

"Well, you're due for another heat cycle soon, aren't you?" 

"I'm not sure. They've been all screwed up since-" Syl broke off. There was a short silence. 

"Since what?" 

"Never mind," she said quickly. "Anyway, when I have my next one then I'll know for sure. So I'll tell you." 

"Okay." Brin let it go and Syl was grateful for that. "So do you feel any better?" 

"Talking to you always makes me feel better, Brin." 

"Are you trying to butter me up for any reason in particular?" Brin's voice was wry. 

"Come with us," Syl said. "To New York. Don't you want to see Ben?" 

"Actually, no," Brin said frankly. "But even if I did, I'm just too tired. I'm getting time off work starting on Monday, though, so hopefully I'll be better. But I doubt I'd be very much help to you anyway." 

"We're not going to attack him, Brin." 

"What exactly do you think you're going to do?" she asked quietly. Syl was momentarily halted. 

"Well, it was Jondy's idea," she said finally. "I don't know what she's thinking. I guess she'll fill us in when she calls." 

"How are you and Jondy?" 

"The usual. Not killing each other, not telling each other all our secrets either." Syl hesitated. "Hey, Brin?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Speaking of secrets, what was all that the other day with your first heat?" she asked. There was a short silence. 

"What does it matter?" Brin asked finally. "It was a long time ago." 

"I'm just curious," she pressed gently. "And with me going to New York we probably won't be able to talk much for a while." 

"Yeah..." Brin trailed off. 

"You said I was there. When-" she broke off, blinked. 

  
_Syl was about thirteen; it had been maybe two months since Zack had saved her from her foster uncle. She felt a draft and yawned, her eyes fluttering open. She rubbed her eyes and glanced beside her; Brin wasn't lying next to her anymore. She looked up and saw her quietly walking toward the door. _

"Brin?" she called sleepily. "Something wrong?" Her sister smiled and turned back. 

"Nothing," she said. "I'll be right back. I think I'll open a window, too. It's hot in here." 

"I'm fine," Syl said. "I'm actually a little chilly." 

"Oh, okay." 

"Is Zack still asleep?" Syl asked, yawning again. 

"I think so. It's still really early." She smiled and touched Syl's head. "Go back to sleep, little sister." Syl yawned, nodded, pulled the blankets more tightly around her shoulders. A moment later she had dozed off again. 

  
"Brin," Syl gasped. "You and... _Zack?"_

"Oh," she said. Syl could hear the flush in her voice. "So you figured it out." 

"Brin!" 

"Look, it was a long time ago and I'd rather not discuss it. It was the first time... and we didn't even know..." Her voice was quiet, pained. 

"Oh, God." Syl bit her lip in sympathy for her, and for Zack, as she realized what Brin meant, that neither of them had known what was going on, hadn't known why they couldn't control themselves. And they were so young. "Oh, Brin..." 

"The only thing more uncontrollable than an X5 female in heat is an X5 male around her..." She was trying to make her voice light, but Syl could hear the pain in it still. 

"Did it hurt, Brin?" she asked softly. 

"Of course it hurt," she said shortly. 

"I- I'm sorry..." Syl trailed off and Brin softened. 

"It wasn't his fault. He couldn't stop himself." She hesitated. "I think that was maybe the most frightening experience of his life, Syl." 

"His worst fear," she agreed softly. "To lose control... and hurt one of us." 

"Poor Zack," Brin agreed. 

"And you?" 

"No, I was fine. It got better." Now Syl could hear a small smile in her voice. "It got way better." Syl flushed slightly, thinking of Zack and Brin like that. Brin went on tentatively, "Zack... he never really... recovered from it I don't think. But you'd know better than me. We don't talk much." 

"The same thing almost happened once, with me." Syl realized how much everything made sense now. "He freaked. I mean, _freaked."_

"I remember. He brought me to look after you." 

"Yeah, that's Zack." Syl smiled. "Looking out for us even when he's terrified." 

"Terrified..." Brin let that word hang in the air uncomfortably for a moment. "I don't like associating that with him." 

"We don't have to," she said, understanding immediately. "We can stop talking about it if you want to." 

"No, it's okay," Brin assured her. "I just... it was so long ago. I don't think about it so much anymore, and I know Zack doesn't." Syl was surprised by something in her voice. 

"You _want_ him to think about it?" she asked. 

"No, it isn't even like that. But it was more than just that one night, Syl..." Brin sighed. "Look, I said I didn't want to get into this." 

"I'm so curious I may burst," Syl admitted. She smiled. "But whatever you want, Brin. We can always talk about this again." 

"Of course. Maybe next time. I think Greg is waking up anyway. I've been talking for a while and I have work tomorrow, so I really should go, Syl." 

"Sure," she said. "Sorry I pushed." 

"Don't apologize." She heard the smile in Brin's voice. "You're my sister, this is what we're supposed to talk about." 

"Okay, then you'd better get back to Greg, and I'd better get back to Krit. Goodnight, Brin." 

"Goodnight, Syl. Thanks for listening." 

"You too," she said softly. "I love you, Brin." 

"I love you, too. Bye." 

"Bye." Syl hung up the phone and sat there for a moment, staring at the receiver. _Brin and Zack, Zack and Brin..._ her thoughts were racing. 

"Syl!" she heard Krit call. "Where are you?" She smiled and walked back into their bedroom. Krit yawned and reached for her as she climbed into bed, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her shoulder. 

"Hey," she said. 

"Hey. What's up?" 

"Nothing, just talking to Brin." 

"Now?" 

"I had a nightmare," she explained. His dark eyes met hers and he reached for her hand, squeezed. 

"You could have woken me up." 

"I know, but you looked so peaceful. And Brin has all her psychological babble that helps me somehow." She smiled and settled into his embrace, slipped her arms around him and ran a hand up his smooth back. He sighed into her hair and closed his eyes. The phone rang. Syl groaned and leaned her head against his. 

"Don't answer it," he whined. She laughed and reached across him to their bedside table. 

"It could be important," she said, raising it to her ear. "Hello?" 

"Syl!" Jondy was always so _cheerful._

"Can't you call during daylight hours?" she grumbled. Jondy paused only momentarily. 

"Yeah, anyway, Zane and I are ready to go. And Tinga. You coming still?" 

"Of course." 

"Good. We'll be there in two hours." 

"Two- _what?"_

"Two hours. Is there static on your phone?" 

_"No,"_ Syl growled. "Jondy, it's four am! We just got him from work three hours ago!" 

"Well, sorry, sis," she said cheerfully. "But if it's any consolation it's _three_ am here, so we'll be even more tired." 

"That's great," Syl said dryly. "Don't let Zane or Tinga drive, they'll crash." 

"As if I'd ever let them drive _my_ car." 

"Can I go so we can sleep now?" she asked, smiling wryly. 

"Okay, if you really want to pass up a perfectly good conversation with me." She waited for Syl to reconsider and then sighed when she didn't. "Fine then," she said. "I'll see you in a couple of hours." Syl grunted something and hung up the phone. She groaned and rolled back into Krit's arms. 

"You heard?" 

"Yeah." He sighed. 

"Well, I guess we should sleep." 

"No, tell me about the dream," he answered, yawning in the middle of his sentence. She smiled and slipped a leg between his. 

"Krit?" she said. 

"Hmm?" he murmured. 

"I love you." She felt him smile, pull her closer. His lips brushed lazily over her forehead. 

"I love you, too," he said softly. She laid there for a long time listening to their mingled breathing, staring into the darkness. 

"In my dream," she whispered finally. "Zack doesn't see me. He isn't there to protect me. And you were there this time- that was new. You wanted me to marry you... but I couldn't. I don't know why. I love you. I just... couldn't." She swallowed hard. "And then I went into the room. And I saw- me. Me when I was little." She was talking quickly but she couldn't stop now. "There was a baby- Caleb. And another one." She shivered slightly. Her voice was barely more than breath. "I don't know her name. Zack does, but not me. I'm her mother, Krit," Syl whispered. "She's mine." There was a long silence that was somehow more deafening than words. 

"Say something," she breathed, glancing up at him nervously. His eyes were closed; he was asleep. She stared at him for a long minute, dumbfounded. Finally she laughed, and only then did she realize she was crying. And she honestly didn't know if the tears were of sadness or relief.   



	23. Chapter 22

"Can I _please_ switch places with you, Syl?" Zane asked for the thousandth time. She ignored him. 

"Wow," Jondy spoke up next. "I can honestly say that I've never been this crowded. We should have stuck with my car. I could have driven all night, too," she pointed out. 

"Yippee," Syl said dryly. Jondy frowned at her and squirmed around in the backseat of Krit's SUV. She pouted when Zane nudged her in the ribs. 

"Stop wiggling," he said, grinning. "Your car is smaller than this one." She sighed and gave a false pathetic whimper. 

"Yeah, but it's _mine,"_ she said, laying her head on Tinga's shoulder with a dramatic sigh. 

"My cheek," Tinga announced. "Is pressed against the window." 

"It's a _nice_ car," Krit kept saying. 

"We're not saying it's not nice, man." Zane rolled his eyes. "It's just _smaller_ than we'd like. How come you and Syl get the front seats? 

"Because," Krit answered, tossing a smile over his shoulder as he pulled out of the driveway. "The driver gets to pick who sits beside him." He reached for Syl's hand and smiled tenderly at her. "And you're crazy if you think I'm choosing any of you over Syl." 

"That is so cute," Tinga said dreamily. 

"Yeah, _almost_ makes up for me having to be squished in here," Jondy said dryly. 

"Can I drive?" 

"No, Zane." There was a pause and then Jondy pouted. 

"How come I have to sit in the middle?" 

"Because you're the youngest," Zane said logically. She rolled her eyes and there was a short silence in which the breathing of the five of them was all that could be heard. 

"Someone tell a story," Jondy spoke up finally. 

"Is that what you and Ben did when he was at your place?" Zane asked, voicing the all their curiosity. "Told you stories like old times?" Syl turned in her seat to see Jondy smiling wistfully. 

"Something like that," she whispered, then glanced away. "But I don't really want to talk about that right now..." She shrugged, cleared her throat. "Well, if you guys won't tell one then I will, okay?" She thought for a minute, brightened. "Once when I was in grade ten back in Sioux City, Zane decided to do the _stupidest_ thing I have ever-" 

"Hey!" Zane interrupted. "That isn't your story, it's mine, and you're going to tell it all wrong and make me look bad." Tinga laughed and rolled her eyes at them. 

"Fine," Jondy said, feigning exasperation and giving him a nudge. "You tell it then." 

"Okay," he agreed. "If it's the one I'm thinking of." 

"How many stupid things did you do in high school?" Syl asked him; he made a face at her. 

"Jondy's right, it was grade ten. And I was bored. But, _un_like what she said, it was not a stupid idea, it was a _good_ idea. I'd even go so far as to say it was a _great_ idea." 

"Oh, I'm sure you would," Jondy said dryly, but he silenced her with a feigned glare. 

"What did you do?" Krit asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror. 

"Well," Jondy spoke up before he could answer. "Zane here decided that exploding the school gym would be funny, which of course it _wasn't."_

"I didn't think it would be funny," he protested. "I thought it would be _fun._ There's a difference. And it's not like there was anyone inside." 

"My _shoes_ were inside. My _favourite_ shoes! Besides, you were sixteen- you though _everything_ was funny, this must have been included." She smiled and punched him on the shoulder. 

"Must have been nice to be in high school together," Syl said wistfully. Jondy grinned. 

"Yeah, a total screw-up on Zack's part." She laughed. "Complete fluke. He didn't realize for weeks that he'd stuck us-" 

"In the same city," Zane finished for her. "Jondy was-" 

"Supposed to move," she explained for him. "But I didn't, and Zack didn't even know it." She laughed again. "He was really busy that month with some of the others. I think it was..." She trailed off. 

"When you were getting married, Tinga," Zane offered. Jondy smiled and nodded her agreement. 

"Stop finishing each other's sentences," Syl complained. "You're making me dizzy." 

"Zack didn't leave me alone for about six weeks around then," Tinga grumbled, smiling. "He kept trying to talk me out of it. I'm not surprised he made a few mistakes." 

"Well," Jondy said. "That just goes to show that he should have minded his own business." They all rolled their eyes at that thought, knowing it would never happen. 

"Too bad Brin couldn't come," Tinga said. They all nodded. 

"She was pretty tired," Zane explained. "I guess she just didn't feel up to Ben." 

"I don't know if I feel up to him," Krit admitted. "After everything he's been doing..." He added quickly, "But I'm glad we're going." 

"It makes you think about things you don't want to," Syl agreed. 

"What exactly is the plan here, Jondy?" Tinga asked after a short silence. 

"Well, we find him and then talk." 

"Talk," Syl repeated. 

"Yeah." Jondy did not seem to see a problem with this plan. "We talk and tell him to stop killing people. Then all he has to do is listen." Krit groaned and Tinga laughed at him. 

"Wow, I guess Zack never thought of that," he said dryly. "I bet he just tried hand signals and never dreamed that _words_ were the answer." Jondy frowned at him. 

"I don't appreciate your tone," she said. They all laughed and she pouted, drawing her eyebrows low over her wide blue eyes. 

"Can I _please_ switch places with you, Syl?" Zane asked again. 

"No!" Syl put her feet up on the dashboard, flaunting her leg room, and her brother frowned and waved a hand at her, sighing and looking out the window. Jondy squirmed beside him and tried to get comfortable. 

"Well," Tinga said, always cheerful. "If anything this will be a nice trip, all of us together." 

"And we'll get to see Ben," Syl agreed. She glanced at her little sister. "What exactly did you guys do while he was visiting you, anyway?" A small smile crossed Jondy's lips. 

"It was great," she said softly. "It was just like it was before. I was afraid, when he showed up, that I would only see a killer." She glanced away. "I haven't forgotten that he's become that, but... when he was with me, he was Ben. My brother, and nothing more. I thought, if we all saw him, maybe he'd go back to the way he was before." 

"It's some hope," Syl said. "With even Zack having given up, I was worried there wasn't any." 

"Zack." Jondy rolled her eyes. "He has no idea what he's doing when it comes to emotional problems." Syl glanced away, smiled a little at how much her sister didn't understand about Zack. But she said nothing, forever honouring the pact of silence she'd made with him years before. 

"He wanted me to help him," Jondy said quietly. 

"Help you kill?" Tinga's voice was small. Her sister nodded. 

"I didn't understand at first what he was asking, but... he wanted me to help him kill." She was looking at her hands. "He told me about what he was doing. I don't know what he wanted, but he wanted something. He was asking me for something, but I couldn't see what it was." Her voice was far away, her words soft with sadness. "He was Ben, but he was different, too. Something about him scared me." Zane's hand was gentle against her hair. 

"You don't have to talk about it," he murmured. 

"No, it's okay." She shrugged him off. "I'm fine." 

"Hey," he said. "You're one of the only little sisters I have. I'm just trying to protect you." She smiled sideways at him. 

"I guess so." She sighed. "Ben was normal when he was with me. Every day we spent together he got better. Eventually he stopped talking about killing altogether, and about the Blue-" She stopped, didn't want to say it. 

"The Blue Lady," Tinga finished for her softly in her sweet voice. Syl glanced at her, saw again for a moment the child they'd named for the melodious sound of her laugh, like a chime ringing. She smiled. 

"He believes in her," Jondy said shortly, looking out the window. "I don't." 

"So why did we grow up?" Zane asked quietly. "And he didn't?" His question hung in the air for several moments. 

"It's not even about that," she said finally in a soft voice. "He doesn't feel like he belongs out here. He thinks..." She trailed off but Syl's heart had gone slightly cold; Jondy was going to say, 'He thinks we never should have left.' And she felt the same way Ben did, in a lot of ways. She glanced out the window and stifled a sigh. 

"What I want to know," Jondy's voice came, breaking the tense silence. "Is how you two came about." She reached forward and poked Krit and Syl simultaneously. They flushed slightly and glanced at each other. Syl looked in the back; Zane was grinning and Tinga had a small, knowing smile on her face. 

"No, I don't think so," she said, flushing a little. "Tell us what's up with Brin instead." Zane frowned, but relented. 

"She really is pretty sick. I was going to stay behind with her, but she has that Greg and _someone_ convinced me this was more important." 

"It is," Jondy said. "Besides, I wanted to see you. You live like three hours away but you never visit." She rolled her eyes and turned to Tinga. "I thought he might have changed since high school." She sighed dramatically. "But he still has a new woman every month and thinks nothing of settling down." Tinga smiled a small smile at Zane. 

"Hey," he protested. "When I find the right girl then I will." 

"You don't even stick around long enough to know!" 

"You make it sound like I drop them whenever I get bored or something, Jondy." He frowned at her. "For your information, I've never had a bad breakup in my life." 

"That's because you're too cute to have anyone stay mad at you," she said. He grinned. 

"Thanks." At that, Jondy threw up her hands and gave him a firm poke in the ribs before she crossed her arms over her chest and slumped down in her seat. Zane looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. 

"Can I _please_ switch places with you, Syl?" he asked again. 

"Come _on,_ Syl," Jondy complained. "If you don't switch then he's going to keep asking every ten seconds. Am I really that horrible to sit by?" Syl looked at her sister, beyond the smile, the teasing tone, to the real uncertainty that she knew was there. Jondy and Syl had never gotten along as well as they did with some of the others, for a lot of reasons, but Syl knew how to read her well. 

"Of course not," she said. "Okay, Krit, pull over." He pouted but did as she asked. "It's a long drive to New York," she said when she'd settled into the backseat. "I'll sit with you later." Zane smiled. 

"You guys are- and I know Jondy will tease me for using this word... but you're so cute." He cast a glance at Jondy, who said nothing but had a gleam in her eye that Syl knew very well. 

"This is a very sexist arrangement," Tinga noticed with a smile when they were underway again. "Us girls in the back and you guys up there?" 

"So?" Krit wiggled his eyebrows at her in the rear-view mirror. "What are you going to do about it?" She stuck her tongue out and turned away. Syl felt Jondy settle tentatively against her side a little and glanced at her, feeling a fondness she hadn't in a long time. She touched her sister's dark blonde hair and smiled softly. 

"It's good to see you," she said sincerely. Jondy slowly smiled, her blue eyes calming slightly. She closed them, leaned against Syl's shoulder, and then she was asleep. Syl knew she would wake again in minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, because all Jondy ever did was catnap, but she felt her annoyance toward her littlest sister soften when she looked at her sleeping face. Sure, she could be irritating and over-cheerful and too energetic, but she only wanted what they all did, to be loved, to fit into the world. Syl smiled and leaned her head against Jondy's soft hair, and closed her eyes. 

  
Syl jerked awake when the car brakes screeched. Her heightened senses were assaulted by the smell and feeling of four scents of raised adrenaline and her skin was crawling with reflex. She looked outside and saw that they were stopped, so relaxed slightly. 

"What's up?" Jondy asked cheerfully after a short silence. Syl felt herself getting annoyed again but shrugged it away. She saw that Zane was driving now; how long had she been asleep? 

"Look," he said, staring straight ahead at the road. "I don't know which one of you that is, but you're going to have to get out of the car now." Syl looked at Tinga, who looked as confused as she felt, and then at Jondy, who smiled quizzically at Zane. 

"What on Earth are you talking about?" she asked sweetly. 

"One of you," Krit said, and now Syl realized that he also wasn't turning around. "Is in heat and we can't tell which one it is." 

"There's too many people in this car, all your scents are mixed," Zane agreed. Both their voices sounded strained and tense. 

"Well it isn't me, I had mine three weeks ago," Tinga announced. 

"It could be me," Jondy said cheerfully. She scooted forward and poked at Zane's arm playfully. "Look at me and then we'll know." 

"That's not funny, Jondy," he said tensely. But he looked at her, probably because he couldn't not look at her, and so did Krit. Syl felt irrational anger rise in her and she reached forward and pulled Jondy back hard against the seat. Zane averted his eyes. 

"Okay, it's Syl," he said. "That's perfect, I won't have to feel bad about leaving her on the side of the road to some stranger. Krit, get out." 

"What about Ben?" Syl asked as Krit slid out of the car, opened her door, and started tugging at her arm. 

"Just get _out,_ Syl," Zane growled. He glanced at her and then away. "Sorry." 

"There's enough of us to knock some sense into Ben," Tinga said quickly. "Go on, have fun with Krit." She smiled and Syl got out of the car. 

"This is ridiculous," she said after Zane tore off. "I don't even feel like I'm in heat. And that was _your_ car." She turned to Krit and saw the look smoldering in his eyes, and blinked. "Oh," she said, flushing a little. "So I am-" 

"Shut up, Syl," he whispered as he pulled her close, kissing her deeply and already pulling at her clothes. Someone beeped as they drove by, yelled a catcall out the window, and she remembered where they were. 

She deepened the kiss and then pulled away, leaving them both breathless. "Krit, we have to go somewhere," she whispered as he nibbled at her ear. He forced himself away from her but her hands rose unbidden to pull him back in for another kiss. His lips moved to her neck, his hands pulling at her shirt. "Never mind," she whispered. "Let's just stay here." 

"I'm going to _kill_ Zane," he said between kisses, his voice low and strained. She laughed softly and his jacket hit the ground. Krit pulled back. "No, you're right, we do have to get out of here." He fended her off with one hand as he looked around for somewhere to go. "Zane could have dropped us off at a damned city," he muttered, scouring the long highway for some sign of civilization. "We're going to have to hitchhike, Syl." 

"Are you _insane?"_ she hissed, her mouth falling open as he stuck a thumb out. "I can't get into a car with _people!"_

"Well we can't stay here!" he exclaimed, dropping his hand. "If we do-" She put a finger to his lips and reached for him. "Syl..." he tried to protest weakly before she pulled him down for a kiss, and then he was pressing her close against him, kissing her passionately back. He nudged her backward and into the trees lining the road, away from the traffic, and kicked at the ground to get rid of twigs and rocks. He looked at her, his sheepishness momentarily showing through his desire. "Sorry," he said. 

"Are you kidding?" She reached for him and pulled him down on the ground with her. "I don't care, Krit," she said, kissing him. He rolled her gently onto her back and paused for a moment to smile down at her tenderly, which both frustrated her and made her melt at the warmth in his eyes. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered lovingly. 

"So are you," she whispered back, smiling. "Now come here." She reached for him and pulled him down with her and marvelled at how much she loved him. 

  


* * *

  
Syl yawned and stretched, feeling Krit's warm body next to hers; she opened her eyes and blinked against bright light. Syl froze. 

"Whoa," she said in a surprisingly calm voice, flushing and looking around for her clothes so she could cover herself up. The man lowered the flashlight from her eyes and threw her shirt and jeans to her. It was dark outside; how long had they been there? Syl nudged Krit while she quickly donned her shirt and stood up, pulling on her jeans. Krit yawned and then saw the police officer and jumped to his feet, grabbing for his clothes as well, his face red. The officer led them out of the woods. 

"ID please," he said. Syl groaned. 

"I don't have any, mine's in the car," she hissed at Krit. 

"What car?" the man asked. She smiled at him. 

"We were going on a road trip with our-" she caught herself at 'brother.' "Friend. He let us off here and I must have left my wallet in his car." 

"He just let you off in the middle of nowhere?" the man asked. Syl nodded. 

"Pretty much, officer." 

"Why?" At this, both Krit and Syl flushed and glanced away from him, at each other, at the floor. 

"Um..." Krit said. The officer did not look amused. 

"You're saying your friend dropped you off on the side of the road so you could go for a quickie in the woods?" he asked, his eyes sliding to Syl. "Not that I blame you." Krit frowned and the officer wiggled his eyebrows at her. 

"Hey," Krit said, annoyed, drawing the man's attention back. "Can we go?" 

"No," he said, his smile dropping. "I have to write you a ticket for indecent exposure and about ten other things. Stay there." He went to rummage in his car and Syl glanced at Krit. 

"Let's just go." 

"Where? We're nowhere near anything thanks to our _idiot_ brother who you have to remind me to _murder._ This guy is probably our only ride out of here." 

"That was pretty funny though, you have to admit." 

"Yeah, it was just hilarious when he was ogling you," Krit said dryly. Syl laughed. 

"Come on, Krit," she said. "If it was a female officer she'd be doing the same to you." He grunted something but the cop returned before he could elaborate. 

"I'm going to need to search you," he said. 

_"What?"_ Krit asked, annoyed. "Come on, that's-" 

"Not you," the officer said. He took Syl's shoulder and hauled her over to his car. She tensed but put her hands on the window, let him search her. 

"Hey!" she snapped when his hands lingered too long against her backside. She jerked away but his arm shoved her back against the car. Syl hated post-Pulse America, couldn't believe the few older people she'd met who talked about a past government that was mostly fair and law enforcement officers who were actually interested in enforcing the law. Behind her she could hear Krit fuming but she didn't want to get into a fight right now and she could handle this guy for a few more minutes. Then his hands crept around her front and started nudging under her shirt. She whirled around and elbowed him in the face in one fluid motion, and Krit had blurred to take his gun before he even knew it was gone. He gaped at them. 

"What- how-" he sputtered. Syl joined Krit and glared that the man. 

"Get lost," she ordered. He stood up and started for his car. "No, no, we need that," she said. 

"We can't steal a police car, that's a bit obvious," Krit said, softly so only she could hear. 

"We'll ditch it when we hit a town and get a nice truck, okay?" she answered, equally low. "You've always wanted a truck." She wiggled her eyebrows at him playfully and he laughed. 

"Okay," he said, and waved the gun lazily at the man. "Go on, get out of here." The officer glared, but turned and started walking away. Krit got into the car and Syl slid in beside him. 

"Can I turn the siren on?" she asked when he started the engine. They both waved at the cop as they passed him. 

"No," Krit said, already intercepting her hand as it reached for the button. She sighed. 

"Fine, fine," she said, blowing at her hair to illustrate her annoyance. Krit grinned at her. 

"That was pretty funny," he finally admitted. 

"Ha!" she said. "I knew you thought so too!" 

"But that guy was a creep," he added. 

"Yeah, well, most guys are." She yawned and smiled at him. "You, of course, being the very huge exception of my life." He smiled at her and reached for her hand, kissed it. She watched him drive for several moments and then froze as a thought hit her. Krit sensed her change in mood. 

"What?" he asked, but she hesitated before speaking. 

"We didn't... use anything." She leaned back against the seat slowly and swallowed hard. Krit slowed the car and pulled it onto the side of the road. He cut the engine and turned to her, reached awkwardly over to slip an arm around her back. 

"Syl, I'm sorry," he murmured. She looked at him tentatively, and was surprised to find that she didn't want to cry. She smiled at him. 

"Maybe it's okay," she said softly. He didn't answer, his dark eyes watching her. "Maybe..." She swallowed again. "It'll be okay." 

"Syl," he said gently. "You know you've got a good chance of getting pregnant when you're in heat. I think we have to accept that and-" 

"No." She smiled and raised a hand to touch his cheek. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, maybe it'll be okay... if I do get pregnant." Krit looked surprised. He frowned. 

"Are you sure?" he asked. She smiled and reached for him and kissed him, long and deep. When she pulled back he had a very serious expression on his face. "It's not about that, Syl," he said. "I know you love me. But you said not too long ago that you weren't ready for this." She didn't say anything for a long time, because everything she wanted to say, things like 'I'm ready for anything with you,' sounded cliched even though she sincerely felt that way. She smiled at him. 

"I do love you, Krit," she said finally. "And nothing we make could be bad." Slowly he smiled back at her, kissed her. When he'd released her she almost felt like laughing with excitement, but she forced herself to calm down. "Krit," she said. "We'd better keep driving. This is a stolen car don't forget." 

"Right." He was grinning. He pulled the car back onto the road and resumed driving back to Colorado. They'd driven for four hours before being dumped on the side of the road, so Syl figured it would be the same back, maybe a bit more since traffic was heavier now. They'd have to ditch the car at the first city they reached, and she'd promised Krit a truck, so that would lengthen it to at least five hours. She sighed and turned on the police radio to see if anything interesting was happening, but all that was on were alerts about them and that was pretty boring for her. She turned it off and drummed her fingers against the window. 

"Go to sleep," Krit said. "You only got a couple of hours last night and if you're anything like me that forest floor just didn't cut it." 

"Yeah, thanks to Jondy and her damned messed-up DNA," she grumbled. "What about you, you didn't get much more. You sure you're okay to drive?" 

"Do we have a choice?" he asked as she settled back against her seat. The wire separating the front from the back dug into her hair. Krit shrugged out of his jacket and slipped it under her head. She yawned. 

"Krit, you're too good for me," she said sleepily. He laughed softly. 

"I doubt anyone is," he whispered, and she made a face. 

"You're so mushy." She yawned again and closed her eyes. "Wake me if the police come." 

"We are the police," he said lightly. She opened her eyes momentarily to glare at him and then closed them again. "Don't worry," he said tenderly as she drifted off. "I will." 

  


* * *

  
Syl was in a truck when she awoke again, and marvelled at Krit's ability to move her without waking her up. Either that or her ability to be dead to the world. Soft light flooded through the window but she couldn't tell if it was dusk or dawn. She looked around for what had woken her and realized that the truck was stopped. In fact, it was stopped in front of her apartment. Then her door opened, and she looked at Krit; he smiled at her. 

"Good sleep?" he asked. 

"Yeah. How-" 

"Oh, I have many talents." He winked at her and she got out of the truck. 

"I could have driven part way," she grumbled at him, yawning and following him up to their building. He smiled, unlocked the door, and they went upstairs. Syl flopped onto their sofa. 

"So are you going to go to bed?" she asked. 

"Why?" he answered, sitting next to her and smiling. "Have you got something more interesting in mind?" 

"Kriiiit!" she whined. "We did that _all day_ yesterday." She frowned. "Or today. How long were we out there, anyway?" He had the decency to blush. 

"Um, I have no idea," he said, and looked around for a clock. "Oh, it's 6:30. At night." 

"On the same day we left, right?" 

"I think so..." He smiled. "Who cares?" 

"Yeah," she agreed. 

"Hey," he said. "We have a message." 

"Yeah?" 

"Two, actually." 

"Wow, that's different. Hope it's not Zack looking for everyone." 

"Doubt it. He said not to call him while he was in Seattle so he's probably really busy." 

"Yeah," Syl said dryly. "Busy making sure Max doesn't find any of us." Krit looked over at her curiously. 

"Is that what he's doing?" he asked. She shrugged. 

"I don't know, we haven't talked as much lately. Play the messages." 

"Okay." He touched the button to rewind the tape and then sat next to her on the sofa. She smiled and kissed him softly, imagining the baby that might already be growing inside. 

"We'll have to get a pregnancy test in a few days," she said. Krit's eyes lit up like a child and he grinned, kissed her again. 

"Hey, guys," Zane's voice came. Syl felt Krit jump and laughed at him, pointing at the machine. "I guess you're still driving home, or..." She could almost hear the blush in his voice. "Anyway, I just wanted to say sorry and could you call Brin, because I tried but I couldn't get through. It's probably my cell, I'm getting pretty far away now. Just call and make sure she's feeling alright." His voice softened. "I know she has that Greg guy but... just check on her, okay? Bye." There was a click and Syl stood up, heading for the phone. She started to dial Brin's number. 

"Krit, Syl, are you there!" Zane's voice came over the machine again, panicked and strained. Syl hung up the phone and Krit slowly stood up. "Okay, I guess you're not. I hope you get this soon. Something really weird is going on. Brin-" He took a breath. "I called Brin again and I still couldn't get through, but it wasn't my cell. Someone cut her phone line, because I called home and I got through. I called that Greg- I've never talked to him but I called Brin there once. The guy was _freaked."_ There was a pause. "Shh, Jondy, I'm hurrying. Look, he didn't even want to talk to me, he thought I was- well, he didn't say who he thought I was but he kept babbling about her apartment being wrecked, and that he couldn't find her anywhere, and he thought I was someone who'd done it." Syl swallowed hard and her eyes flew to Krit's. Zane continued, "I can't be back anytime soon, but you _have_ to find out where Brin is. Call Zack, I don't care about his damn rules, just _call_ him. Go to California if you have to. Look, your machine's going to cut me off, but get on this right now, okay? I didn't get out of the guy how long she's been missing but with how she's been feeling lately I'm scared that-" There was a click as he exceeded the time allotted for messages and Syl finally allowed herself to breathe. She grabbed the phone up again and dialled. 

"Who are you calling?" Krit asked. 

"Zack." She put the phone to her ear and waited. The emergency line, a line that never rang more than twice, rang twenty-six times before she let Krit hang up the phone. 

"Call the other one," he said. 

"What if Manticore-" She couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't say what they both knew, that Brin was in no condition to fight if Lydecker had managed to track her down. She picked up the phone again shakily and dialled the contact number. 

"Zack," his answering machine came on after two rings. "This better be an emergency." It beeped and Syl took a deep, steadying breath. 

"Zack," she said. "Brin is missing. Zane called her and her fiancé says that her house has been searched and that she's gone. I need you to call me right away. Don't bother with Zane or Jondy, they're not home, but we're here and if you know where Brin is _please_ phone. We'll stay here and wait for your call. Please hurry." She hung up the phone and looked at him, saw the fear in his eyes, the vulnerability, knew his thoughts were mirroring hers. _We've been out for ten years, and no one's ever been taken._ She swallowed hard and walked over to him, reaching out her arms to fold him into an embrace. She murmured soft words to him as she had so many times when they had been children and afraid, comforting him as she had when he'd fallen, when he'd been shot, when he'd been punished or afraid or lost. They held onto each other in the living room of their apartment and cried for the sister they both somehow knew was gone.   



	24. Chapter 23

They stayed that way for a long time, maybe hours, just the two of them, together in pain and anguish. Syl could feel that her body was close to his, but she felt loose and detached and not at all comforted. She slowly released him and looked up at his face, at the tears that had slipped down his cheeks and into her hair. She sat down and Krit sat next to her. He extended a hand to take hers but she pulled away, not quite sure why, not quite caring. His dark eyes flashed with surprised pain but he didn't reach for her again. They sat that way until the silence was choking her, until it was never-ending and frightening and making her so tired that she wished she could sleep and never wake up again. She wondered what time it was, remembered vaguely that Krit had said it was 6:30 before they'd listened to their messages. She tried to imagine how much time had passed since then- an hour, a day, a week? Any amount of time was too much of an understatement for the changes that had just taken place. 

If she'd listened, all this could have been prevented. Brin had complained a thousand times of being tired, of being stressed, her hair turning white and her hands shaking with something different than seizures. _Take time off work and you'll be okay,_ Syl had said once. _Come on, you'll be fine, let Zane come to New York,_ another time. _You have Greg, let Zane see Ben with us._ Syl closed her eyes bitterly against the memory; if Zane had been there, maybe he would have been able to help her, protect her and fight when she couldn't. What did this Greg know, this man who cried on the phone that his fiancée was missing, his fiancée Brianna with a tattoo on her neck from a dare, Greg who knew nothing of anything but love and weakness and fear? But Zane could have done something, could have saved her. Syl stood up. She looked at Krit watching her and sat down again. His hand was warm and soft, gentle against her hair, a feeling Brin would never have again, never feel again, the simple touch of someone who loved her. Syl shrugged away, angry for reasons she was too tired to discover. And where was Zack? 

"He'll call," Krit said as though he was reading her thoughts. It hurt to speak, but she forced herself to do it. 

"Twenty-six rings," she said, and marvelled at the sound of her voice, hollow, even, almost calm in its numbness. She didn't look at him, didn't want to, because his eyes were dark and loving and pained, and they would wake her up, make her feel, make her cry again. "The emergency line, Krit," she said, studying her hands. Zane had once said hands were an important part of a woman; Syl looked at hers and wondered if they were beautiful, concluded that they must have been because of how she was made, was astounded that she could think about that at a time like this. She sighed and dropped them into her lap, finding the apartment suddenly hot, stuffy, the air stale. Krit was saying nothing and it was unnerving her, but she didn't want him to talk or she might scream or cry or break something. All she could think about was Brin dead, or worse captured, facing what kind of horrors Syl could only imagine. What would be Manticore's punishment for an AWOL spanning ten years? She didn't want to know. 

"We should call the others," Krit said finally. 

_Hey, Tinga, how's your family? That's good, well I've got news about this side. Brin's probably dead, or as good as dead at least. Yes, it is a shame, isn't it? Of course it could have been prevented if we'd just listened to the girl. No, no, Zack hasn't called, he's missing too, isn't that odd? Well, we're just going to sit here and wait for his call as though we weren't trained for this, as though we couldn't track her and find her ourselves..._

"Did you hear me?" he broke through her thoughts. 

"They're in New York and I don't know Zane's cell number. We'll call them later. We have to go to California now." 

"Let's wait a bit, it's only been an hour since you called Zack." He was talking to her slowly, like she might bolt, like she might freak. Was she that obviously tense? Could he smell the adrenaline clinging to her? 

"I don't want to just sit around," she growled. Krit reached for her but still all she could think was that Brin wouldn't ever feel anything like that again. She stood up and moved to one of the armchairs, and she felt Krit watching her but she didn't care. 

"Syl," he whispered. She closed her eyes against his face and turned to stare out the window. 

"Two weeks today," she said softly after a long time. "She was supposed to get married in two weeks." Syl wrapped her arms around herself tightly. "It wasn't supposed to be like this for Brin," she whispered. Krit hesitated, stood up. He reached for her hand and squeezed, but she pulled away and drew herself closer into the chair. He looked at her for a moment, hesitated, then spoke. 

"Do you want something to eat, Syl?" he asked softly. "Or a drink?" 

"Food would be okay," she answered quietly. He nodded, left the room. Syl sighed and pressed her chin into her knees, tried not to cry, to think. Memory, as always, rose unbidden. 

  
_Zack held his fist up in a halt command and signalled them to assemble. Syl hurried over on her stomach, her machine gun cradled in her arms, and stopped in front of him. _

"Change of plans," he said. "Krit's down." 

"Is he okay?" Eva wanted to know. 

"Where is he?" Bram asked. Syl glanced at them, fear stabbing at her heart. Zack looked at her, motioned for Bram to go with her back the other way. 

"Find him," he ordered. "Find him and take him to the medlab." Syl nodded and motioned for her brother to follow her. His usual darkened skin was pale with fear as he followed her wordlessly through the woods. It didn't take long to find Krit, lying against a tree, his breath coming in little pants as he fought for consciousness. His eyes widened in relief when he caught sight of them. 

"Syl," he gasped as they knelt next to him. "Bram." Syl threw her arms around his neck and Bram unbuttoned his camo jacket, found the bullet hole high in his chest, just under his collar bone. 

"Can you stand?" he asked. 

"Yeah," Krit said. "I'll stand." Syl touched a hand to his cap of half-inch dark hair and slipped her arms around his waist, hoisting him to his feet. He grunted in pain and collapsed slightly against her. She staggered under his weight but Bram, little as he was, kept them both standing. They started at a slow pace back to Manticore, back to safety. Hospital staff were waiting for them just inside the doors, and sprung to work on Krit, baring his chest and treating the wound, wheeling him toward the surgical bay. Syl and Bram wanted to follow, but hung back on orders from nearby guards; Krit raised his head as he was wheeled away and Syl offered him a weak smile. 

"You're going to be fine!" she called. "We'll see you outside." He nodded like the brave little six-year-old he was, and then his stretcher turned a corner and was gone. 

  
"Syl?" Krit's voice wrenched her back to the present and she jumped at how close he'd managed to get to her without her having noticed. He sat down beside her tentatively and handed her a bagel with cream cheese spread on it, one of her favourites. She offered him a smile but she knew it wasn't reaching her eyes, so she sighed and took a bite of her bagel. It tasted like nothing and was hard to swallow. 

"What is it?" he asked softly, reaching out to touch her hair. She jerked away without thinking about it, then glanced at her hands. 

"I'm sorry," she said. After a moment he nodded and she sighed again. "I was remembering that day you were shot, when we were training," she whispered. "And me and Bram came to find you..." She blinked against tears. "It was only a few months before I killed him." Her voice was bitter; she averted her eyes. "What a stupid memory to have now, huh?" 

"It's okay," he said softly. "I understand. I've been having them too." Syl shook her head and glanced away from him. 

"It wasn't supposed to be like this for Brin," she said again, her voice distant because it hurt too much not to be. "She was supposed to get married and be happy like Tinga. She wasn't supposed to die." 

"Hey," Krit murmured, not reaching for her this time though she knew he wanted to. "She's not dead." _Not yet_ was left unspoken in the air. Syl stifled a sigh and glanced away. 

"If she forgets," she whispered. "If... if they make her..." She stared at her hands, shrugged. "Then she'll be dead in any way it counts." Krit didn't answer; she knew he didn't know what to say. Syl glanced away. 

  
_Pain exploded through her body and her eyes shot open, fear seizing at her heart. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, and her hands were shaking, her whole body, her teeth chattering together. She turned her head to the side and saw Brin's sleeping face, a peaceful expression on her features. _

"Brinny," Syl whispered. "Brin, wake up." Her voice was weak, low, afraid, and she had to call several times before her sister stirred and stretched, her eyes opening. She caught Syl's eyes and started to smile, then woke fully. 

"Syl." 

"Hold my hand," she whispered, reaching out in the darkness they could all see through easily, her fingers outstretched in the space between their beds. Brin took her shaking hand, squeezed it. 

"It's okay," she whispered reassuringly. "Do you want me to get Zack?" 

"No, he'll just worry." Syl's teeth were chattering; the seizure was rocking her entire body and it hurt. She was cold. "Let him sleep." Brin gave her hand another tight squeeze. "It won't be much longer yet," Syl added. 

"It's okay, baby sister," Brin whispered, stroking her fingers gently in her own. "Don't worry. Try and go to sleep." A small smile played at the corners of Syl's lips and her dark eyes gazed at Brin, full of warmth and affection, glad that she didn't have to be alone now, glad that Brin was here. Syl let out a small sigh, sensing that the shaking was finally starting to lessen. 

"I love you, Brinny," she whispered. Brin reached over and stroked her sister's half inch of blonde hair, then kissed her own fingers and pressed them to her forehead tenderly. 

"I love you, too." 

  
Syl stood up. 

"I don't think I can handle this, Krit," she whispered, hugging herself again as she went to the window. She heard him rise, come to stand beside her. It had started snowing outside, and the November night was freezing. Syl reached out and opened the window, felt the blast of icy coolness on her face. She shivered and Krit reached out to close it. She stopped him with a hand on his arm. "No," she said. "I like it." He lowered his arm, nodded. She let go of him and they stood there not speaking, staring out at the falling snow and getting cold. 

  
_"We have a mission to complete." Jack didn't look like he wanted to obey his own statement any more than they did. Syl turned and smirked at him, turned to watch Brin extend her hand, the tiny flakes of beautiful white melting against her skin. Brin smiled and she raised her palm to her lips, tasted it. _

"It's perfect," she announced. Ben glanced over. 

"Can we keep our attention, please?" he asked. Syl ignored him, walked over to Brin, caught a few flakes herself and tasted them. The two sisters looked at each other and grinned. 

"Snow doesn't come that often, Zack," Brin said, smiling at him, reaching out her hand and motioning him over. He frowned at her. 

"It severely lowers mission performance," he said. Syl looked at Brin and they both laughed. 

"Zack," Brin said. "Come on." He frowned at her once more, then walked over. With Zack participating most of them lost their hesitancy and joined their sisters, even Ben. Syl looked at Brin and saw that the white flakes were sticking to her sister's dark hair, catching in her eyelashes. For the first time in her life Syl recognized a thing of beauty. 

  
Her teeth were chattering but she didn't care; she couldn't feel her arms anymore. A blanket draped around her shoulders, brushed softly against her skin. Krit's hands slipped around her waist and she wriggled away almost violently, throwing him off her. He made her want to cry, to run. 

"I'm sorry," she said, closing her eyes against his stricken expression, confusion and hurt palpable in his eyes. "But I told you to leave me alone." 

"You're not the only one in pain, Syl," he said softly. "She was my sister too. I loved her." Syl glanced away, fought against tears. 

  
_"Brin, how can I ever thank you for what you've done?" Syl asked softly. Humour touched her sister's voice. _

"What have I done?" she asked tenderly; Syl was momentarily taken aback. 

"Brin," she said. "You saved me." 

"From what?" 

"I..." Syl trailed off, thought about that for a moment. "From... myself." 

"Krit could have done it just as well," Brin said gently. "If you'd let him." 

"I can't." 

"I know. That's okay." Relief flooded Syl at her words and she wished they were in the room together. She smiled into the phone and felt content. 

  
"Where is Zack?" she whispered; Brin was gone, and now the only other person that had ever comforted her, understood her, had disappeared as well. She turned around and looked at Krit, wished she'd told him, wished he hadn't fallen asleep that night, knew it was too late to say anything now. He looked at her but didn't approach. 

"I don't know," he said. "He'll call. He always calls." Syl nodded without any real hope and turned back to the window. The wind changed and snow blew into the room, small white flakes lodging in the wool of the blanket Krit had draped around her. She watched them fade, melt into the blanket, disappear. Her hand finally reached out and closed the window against them, felt Krit's relief behind her. She turned around. 

"I'm tired." 

"Me too." 

"I'm going to bed." 

"I'll come." 

"No," she said, the word coming out unbidden. "I want to sleep in my room." He blinked. 

"Your... room," he repeated after a long time. Syl knew it hadn't been her room since they'd first moved in here, that it was there because, as Brin had once said, it had served as a psychological comfort for her when this relationship had first started, so uncertainly. Now she needed that comfort. 

"Yes," she said, and walked past him, down the hallway. She felt him following her and wished he wasn't. She could smell uncertainty and upset all over him, and she knew he was itching to hold her, hug her, make them both feel better with the contact. But what right had they to feel better, to love each other, when Brin was gone, taken, being hurt, being destroyed? None. Absolutely none. When he followed her right into the bedroom she turned and reached for the door. "Goodnight, Krit," she said. Somewhere deep inside it hurt her that he looked so sad, but she couldn't handle his devastation anymore than she could deal with her own. 

"Syl," he said. "Please." For a moment she saw that little boy she'd comforted on the stretcher with the bullet in his chest, the child who was in pain and afraid and asking for comfort from his big sister. That messed up her thoughts even more, that image of him, the child who she'd consoled, mixing with that of the man she'd had a baby with. She glanced away from him and closed the door, and she barely came out for a week. 

* * *

Work was hell, but Krit made her go because he said it was healthier than crying in the apartment all day and night, which was probably true, but she wanted and needed to cry. Her eyes hurt and she didn't talk to the customers; everything was too bright and colourful. For some strange reason she had expected the world to go grey, or at least the people to be less happy, less cheerful, less loud. But if anything, they were more of all those things, and it hurt her head. To make matters worse, their boss decided that theme bars were more popular nowadays, and decided that their club would now be a western-style one. Syl tried not to cry as she wore her cowboy hat and poured drinks. 

"Hey baby," some half-drunk guy said to her after she gave him a beer. She turned away but he grabbed her hand and held it as though they'd known each other for years. Syl glared at him. "Why don't you and I," he asked, his words slurred, "get out of here and go someplace-" 

"Why I don't I just pound your face in, how about that?" she snapped, whirling to punch him and wrenching her hand free of his grip at the same time. He stumbled and barely kept his feet, turning on her angrily. 

"You bitch!" he yelled, his nose bloody where she'd broken it. Syl started to turn away but she sensed his fist and dodged, grabbing his collar and pulling him over to her side of the bar so she could beat him up more effectively. He slammed into a tray of glasses and shattered several, and rose bleeding for an attack. Syl easily danced past all his crude, half-drunk moves and ended up breaking his left arm. He howled in pain and swung another punch with his good arm, so she threw him against the counter with a satisfying crack before she felt arms grabbing at her from behind. The entire bar had gone silent and people were gaping. Syl wrestled out of her new attacker's grip and whirled on Kevin, one of their bouncers. He stared at her. 

"Syl," he said with disbelief, taking in her attack stance, the fire in her eyes. She lowered her fists slowly and watched the crowd part as Krit rushed through. He took one look at the crumpled man on the floor and came around to her side of the bar. 

"It's okay," he said; Kevin nodded, moved away. Syl laughed out loud at Krit's cowboy hat and then started crying. She fell into his arms and sobbed. 

"Go," Kevin said softly. "I'll tell the boss." 

"Thanks," Krit said. He led her outside where she fell back against the cool concrete of the building, hugging herself. The moon was bright overhead; their shift had almost been over when she snapped so she suspected it was after midnight. Syl felt her knees collapse and fell hard onto the dirty ground, where glass imbedded itself into one of her knees, the pain a welcoming comfort. Krit knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms and she was barely able to twist away before she started throwing up. His hands gathered her hair off her face and when she was done she met his dark, concerned eyes reluctantly. 

"I don't know why," she whispered before he could ask. Krit nodded, smoothed the hair off her face. He helped her stand up and they went to their SUV, climbing in silently. Krit started the engine and Syl leaned her face against the cool glass of her window, closing her eyes as he pulled out onto the road. 

  
"Hey, you're home early, that's great!" Barely in the door and Syl's stomach still churning with nausea, she heard, "Me and Zane were just going to go clubbing, you want to come?" 

"Jondy?" Krit asked; they went into the living room and he smiled at her, bemused and suspicious at the same time. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes flickered but then her smile was back and she shrugged. 

"New York was a bust. Tinga's gone home." 

"And Ben?" Krit asked; again the flicker, the shrug. She avoided the question and started chattering away about inane things that didn't hold Syl's attention. Jondy's voice grated on her nerves as she and Krit searched for something to eat in the kitchen cupboard, and finally she slammed one of the doors and turned around. 

"I want Jondy to leave," she growled. Krit reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze, then glanced at Jondy's stricken face, the pain in her blue eyes obvious. 

"She had a rough night," he said. "She just needs to sleep." Before Syl could protest, Jondy did it for her. 

"No," she said, turning sharply on her heel and stalking from the room. "She just hates me." She raised her voice. "Zane!" 

"Yeah?" the call came from further back in the apartment. 

"We're leaving right now." 

"Jondy-" Krit started as Zane entered the room. 

"We just got here," he said cautiously, knowing he'd missed something. "And I thought we were going clubbing." His gaze flitted cautiously between Jondy and Krit. He noticed Syl and his eyes widened. "Are you okay?" 

"She hates me so we have to leave," Jondy said, throwing a few things angrily into a bag. 

"That's mine," Syl growled when her sister reached for a small vase without meaning to. Jondy grabbed it and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered into tiny fragments of porcelain. "Get out!" Syl yelled at her. 

"Stop it," Zane hissed. "Both of you, just shut up. Jondy, come on, let's go clubbing and let her cool off." He took her arm but she jerked away. 

"No," Jondy hissed at him. She looked at Syl sharply. "Stop being so selfish! You think you're the only person in the whole world, Syl, and I'm sick of it!" 

"This has nothing to do-" 

"Alright, fine. You want me to apologize?" Jondy was pacing around, grabbing things off shelves that she'd brought with her, slamming drawers and banging cupboards. She turned and glared at Syl. "Okay, I'll apologize. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not sleeping, I'm sorry for being cheerful, I'm sorry if I'm trying to live while you just lie around moping all day. I'm sorry if I didn't love Brin enough for you, and if I think Zack's not coming back. I'm _sorry!"_ Krit and Zane exchanged a tense look but didn't know quite what to do, so they remained silent. Jondy stood there for a few moments, waiting, then slowly walked over but disappointed Syl when she didn't attack her. Fighting would have been so much easier. 

"Fine," Jondy said quietly. "Don't say anything. I'm sorry. I can't give you anything else." 

_"Scheiße,_ Jondy," Syl swore in German. "You can give me your absence." Jondy glared at her, rattled off a few obscenities in Chinese, slammed more things into her bag. 

"Please," Zane said. "English." 

"Why?" Jondy snapped. "We can understand." She spat out a bit of Spanish to annoy him, threw in a word or two of French. 

"Get _out!"_ Syl yelled. Jondy stiffened and grabbed her things. 

"Come on, Zane," she said. He stood there for a moment uncomfortably, then finally shot Krit and Syl an apologetic look. He gathered his things and headed for the door with Jondy. 

"Call us," Krit said. 

"Of course." Zane closed the door behind them and Krit looked at Syl, angry but obviously trying not to show it. 

"What was all that?" 

"She pisses me off." 

"I know, but there were about a thousand reasons why they should have stuck around. Being here for Zack's call, for one." Syl fell into the couch and hugged her legs up to her chest. 

"You don't think he's going to call." The soft words made her so tired. Krit sat next to her slowly and tentatively reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. She hadn't let him touch her, _really_ touch her, in days, and he was reaching out as cautiously as if she were a wild animal. 

"Syl..." he murmured, brushing her hair off her face and tipping her chin so she would look at him. She pulled away only slightly. 

"You don't," she insisted. Krit slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. 

"I think Zack is capable of anything," he whispered. She leaned into him and cried for the truth of his words, for the lie. She felt his hands in her hair again and then his lips met hers softly. Syl let him kiss her for a few seconds and then turned her head away. 

"No," she said angrily. 

"Syl-" 

"No." She stood up. "I need to be alone." Her voice was choked with tears as she turned and walked away from him, and she heard his footsteps following her. His hands reached out and touched her shoulders, but she jerked away, fell into the wall. 

"I mean it," she whispered shakily. "Go away." Then Krit got mad; he grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him, pushed her back against the wall. 

"Dammit, Syl." She was too upset herself to feel badly about the tears in his voice. 

"Just please go away," she whispered. "I can't-" 

"She was my sister too," he told her for the thousandth time. She could smell his adrenaline, his anger. Tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Finally she whispered, "That's just the start of the problems." Her voice was soft, gentle, but he tensed anyway. 

"Don't use Brin as an excuse to run away from me," he said. Syl's head snapped up and her eyes flashed angrily through her tears. Krit's fists were clenched, his face anguished, scared and angry all at the same time. The tears slipped hot down her cheeks but she forced them back. 

"I don't run," she said, low. His eyes darkened slightly but he took a long breath to calm himself, releasing her shoulders roughly. He reached out for her more tenderly. "Stop it!" she hissed, twisting away from him. "Can't you just leave me alone for five minutes?" 

"No," he said. "This isn't helping you. You're killing yourself and I'm not going to stand around and watch it anymore." He brought a hand up and touched her cheek. "Syl, you have to eat something and you have to take that test-" She swatted him away. 

_"Stop_ asking me to do that!" He gripped her shoulders again; he looked angry and desperate all at once. 

"For all we know you could be hurting someone other than yourself, and I'm _not_ going to sit around anymore and let you do this." She tried to extract herself from his grip but his hands tightened. Didn't he get it? She wanted to be alone. She needed to think, to _breathe._ Finally he let her ago and she stalked down the hallway, but halted in the doorway of the bedroom they used to share; it smelled too much like him, like them. She turned back and plowed into Krit's chest; his hands came up to steady her but she slapped them away and shoved past him. 

"Krit, _please,"_ she growled when he followed her to the front door, watched her slip on her shoes and a jacket. She reached past him to get the keys to their SUV. 

"Where are you going?" he asked when she turned to pull open the front door. Syl paused and glanced back at him; he looked broken. There wasn't any other word to describe it. 

"I just need to drive," she said, averting her eyes because it hurt to look at him. "I'll be back, I promise." She didn't care if she was lying, didn't even really know whether she was or not. She just needed to get out and find somewhere to go, somewhere with more air and less talking and less confusion. She opened the door, stepped into their building's hallway, and shut it behind her. When she was halfway down the corridor it opened again. 

"Syl!" he called. It had to be almost one in the morning; he was going to wake up all their neighbours. 

"Krit, you're not coming with me." Her voice shook but she wasn't going to give in, so she kept walking and didn't turn around, increased the speed of her pace. 

"Syl!" he called again, angry now. He blurred and was beside her immediately; she shrugged away from his hands but he grabbed one of her arms, pushed something into her palm. She heard a rattling and looked down; a bottle of tryptophan. She met his dark eyes slowly and saw that they were shining with tears. His face was anguished, defeated. His hand was still holding the bottle of pills and he reached his fingers out tentatively to touch hers. She had to force herself not to jerk away. 

"I..." His wasn't looking at her; he was just staring at their clasped hands. "I think you're going to need these." Finally he met her eyes and he gave her hand a squeeze. "Be careful, okay Syl?" His voice was so soft that it broke her heart. She felt new tears coursing down her cheeks and she reached out for him, pulled him close. She was holding him so tightly that he probably couldn't breathe, but she doubted he cared, and he was squeezing her just as strong. She grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to it, then another against his cheek. He turned his face and caught her lips with his, but she pulled away. 

"Krit..." She trailed off and bit her lip. 

"Please take the test," he said softly. "I need to know." After a long moment she nodded, then took a step back from him, his expression tearing at her heart. She tried to smile, hesitated. 

"I'm so in love with you, Krit," she whispered finally. His nod was slow, devastated. 

"I'm in love with you too, Syl," he said quietly. "I'm sorry if that's not enough for you." His words were not angry or hurtful, just soft, resigned. Sad. She swallowed hard. 

"I'm going now," she said. "I'll call you." She forced herself to turn and put one foot in front of the other, and somehow she made it to the stairwell door. She didn't turn around before shutting it behind her; she didn't need to. She knew he was still there.   



	25. Chapter 24

Syl dialled the contact number, heard Zack's message to come on, his voice making her eyes mist over. She shook them away, forced herself not to sound upset, and waited for the beep. 

"It's me," she said, amazed at the calmness she was able to fake. "You're still not answering your emergency line and-" She stopped, played with the telephone cord for a moment. "Well, I guess you know that." She rolled her eyes at herself and tried to lighten her tone. "You'd better have a good reason for that, Zack." She stifled a sigh and cleared her throat. "It doesn't matter why, but I'm not home anymore. I'm going back to California... Krit's still in Colorado, but I'm not." Her voice was getting softer with each word and she forced herself to raise it. "Zack, I need you to call me. I don't care how busy you are, with Brin and everything I just need to hear from you. I need to know you're alright." She took a breath, pulled at the cord again, sighed. "I'll be at Zane's tomorrow. Bye, Zack." After a short pause she said, "I love you, okay? Call soon." Then she hung up the payphone, got back in her car, and resumed driving. The road was bright with the sun now; she'd been driving for hours. The snow had been less heavy on the road through New Mexico than it had been back in Colorado, and she'd been glad, wanting to get to Zane's as quickly as possible. The only problem was that she still hadn't decided whether or not she wanted him to be there when she arrived, but she still had a whole night to decide. She at least knew that she didn't want Jondy there. She didn't hate her sister as Jondy had claimed, but their personalities were too different, and it took a lot of effort on Syl's part to put up with her, effort that she simply didn't have at times like these. 

Driving was mindless and it didn't seem long before night arrived again. She stopped at a motel in Arizona; Syl had never been to Flagstaff before but she wasn't interested in touring it. If she left first thing the next morning she'd be at Zane's by lunch time; before, if she got up early enough. She tossed her things onto the chair in her motel room and collapsed onto the bed, annoyed to find that she couldn't sleep. 

She tried not to think about Krit, about what he was doing right now, about how his day had been in an empty apartment. She tried not to imagine how he was likely depressed, devastated, and she knew that it was all her fault. She glanced over at the chair through the darkness, looked at the small plastic bag from the drugstore she'd stopped at on her way out of Pueblo. She tried not to think of what was inside, but she'd have to because she'd promised to take that test and she knew she owed Krit that much. That and a lot more. 

What she was doing wasn't fair, running away from him. She knew he needed her, that he craved comfort during catastrophes while she wanted solitude. They were so opposite it was amazing that- Syl's mind tried to shut off but she forced herself to finish the thought: it was amazing that she loved him so much. A tear slipped down her cheek but she was too tired to brush it away so it pooled against her lip, salty and ticklish. She shook her head to get rid of it and sighed. The ceiling blurred as more tears followed and she rolled over on the uncomfortable motel bed. The bag glared at her from the chair so she stood up, threw it into the bathroom, laid back down again. After an hour she slowly got up again, walked across the room, closed the bathroom door behind her out of habit more than necessity. She took the test, threw it out, climbed slowly back between the itchy blankets, and promptly fell asleep. 

  
It was afternoon when she woke again, but she was too tired to care. She went to the lobby to pay, begged an apple and a bottle of water from the clerk, and ate for the first time in days. Then she got in her car and turned onto the highway that would take her to Los Angeles. She remembered Zane's address but was still nervous about going to him. She'd decided she did want him to be there because she needed company... funny that she would decide that now, when that was exactly what Krit had been begging for these past several days. But Zane was different, easier. He was her little brother and nothing more, and that made it all simpler. 

She couldn't seem to stop crying. She burst into tears at several different times during the drive, and actually had to pull over once or twice. Most of the time she didn't even know what she was crying about. It was getting dark by the time she reached Los Angeles, and the signs blurred through more tears while she tried to find his street. This time was no different, and the tears came; she barely made it to Zane's building before she had to pull over. She turned off the car, dropped her head into her hands, and sobbed for a long time. 

Her tears stopped in surprise when she heard the tap of cold, hard metal against her window. The door opened so fast that she had to grab the steering wheel so as not to tumble out onto the street. 

"Get out," a voice came, hard, with an edge of nervousness to it. "Slowly." Syl stifled a sigh because she wasn't in the mood for a fight, but did as the guy said. A gun promptly pressed into her ribs and she was turned roughly to face the car. "Just you?" he asked, but before she could answer she felt his hand brush against her hair while he searched her, moving it aside. She froze as she realized her barcode had been exposed, but decided it was too dark for anyone to see it clearly and she doubted the guy was interested in studying her neck. Then the gun lowered, and the hands dropped. She turned around tentatively. 

"Syl," he said, a grin on his face. 

"Zane." She hugged him and almost laughed. 

"You shouldn't sit outside a guy's apartment like that, Syl," he chided. "I thought you were Lydecker." His smile faded slightly and pain flashed in his eyes before he glanced away. "After Brin..." He didn't want to continue and she didn't want him to either. 

"Zane," she said. "Can I stay with you for a while?" He blinked. 

"Where's Krit?" 

"Can we just go inside?" She lowered her voice as tears threatened again. "I'll explain everything." 

"Okay," he said; they turned and started toward his building. He cast a sideways glance at her and smirked. "Just as long as you're not due for a heat cycle anytime soon." 

"I'm really sorry about that, Zane," she whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek and his arm encircled her shoulders, squeezing her to his side as they walked. 

"Hey, I was kidding." His voice was so gentle that it tore at her heart. She couldn't stop sobbing. Zane stopped and turned her in his arms, pulling her close. His dark eyes were filled with worry but he said nothing, asked nothing more. Her tears turned from sadness to relief and she was so glad she'd come here; finally she stopped crying altogether. When she pulled back his shirt was soaked. 

"Sorry," she said as they continued toward the apartments. He gave her another squeeze. 

"I can handle it," he said gently. She smiled at him. 

"Thanks, baby brother," she whispered sincerely. They reached his building and he unlocked the door, shoving his gun into his belt and zipping his jacket over it so no one saw. They rode the elevator upstairs and she tried not to think of the last time she was here, with Krit, at her last heat cycle. Zane seemed to read her thoughts and glanced at her. 

"You guys left it quite a mess," he joked, but she didn't laugh. 

"Sorry," she whispered. Zane frowned, touched her hair lightly. 

"What's wrong?" he asked; the elevator doors parted and when she didn't answer he sighed and led her to his apartment, unlocked it, closed the door behind them. "Just wait here for a second," he said. She nodded and watched him walk further into the apartment, then leaned against the wall and hugged herself, suddenly very tired though she'd overslept that morning. She heard him coming back and glanced up, started to smile. But it wasn't just Zane; a woman was with him, and looking very upset. Syl's eyes widened. 

"Oh my _God,"_ she hissed at him, her face reddening. "You didn't tell me you had someone here!" 

"It's okay," he said, sounding bemused, as though he couldn't understand why this was a problem. "She understands." The girl pulled on her shoes and grabbed her jacket, not looking at all like she understood. She pushed roughly past his outstretched hands, pulling open the door. Pausing momentarily, she looked at Syl. 

"You don't look like his sister," she snapped. 

"Only half," she answered quickly. The girl narrowed her eyes at her, glanced at Zane. 

"It was nice to meet you," she muttered to Syl, and shut the door behind her. Syl and Zane stood there for a moment; he looked absolutely confused. She motioned to the door and he raised his eyebrows at her. 

"What?" 

"Go." 

"Now?" 

"No, next week," she said sarcastically. "Of course _now."_ She pushed at him. _"Go!"_

"Oh," he said. "Okay, I'll be right back." 

"Take your time." She almost laughed when he was outside because he was so cute, and she realized he'd been telling the truth when he'd said that he'd never had a bad breakup. He didn't even know what to do with that girl's reaction. She went into the living room and felt something soft brush against her legs; she jumped but it was just Zane's German Shepard, who she'd met when she and Krit had borrowed his apartment. They'd had to lock her out of the room. 

"Hey, Kia," she said, scratching her behind the ears. The dog tilted her head and closed her eyes in happiness; she was such a sweetie. Syl gave her a friendly slap on the side and went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, the dog following her, its nails clicking on the linoleum. She waited for Zane and he was gone for only ten minutes before he came back. He had a goofy smile on his face and lipstick smeared against his lips. 

"She understood," he informed her with a grin. 

"Zane," she said. "You are amazing." She followed him into the living room and they sat on his sofa. Kia jumped into his lap even though she was far too large, but Zane didn't seem to mind. He scratched her behind the ears and smiled. 

"You can sleep here tonight," he said. "Jondy says it's comfortable. Or you can sleep in my bed and I'll sleep here. Whatever." Syl smiled. 

"Here will be fine," she said. There was a short silence and then Zane cleared his throat, smiled. 

"So are you going to tell me now or do I have to call Krit?" Her eyes flew to his in shock and he sighed. "I was joking again, Syl," he said gently. He tipped his head a little at her. "This is big, isn't it?" She stood up and went to the window. 

"Maybe it's over," she whispered. She glanced at him. "Forever, I mean." 

"Why?" he asked. She reached out and ran her hands along the glass, felt it cool and smooth against her fingertips. She shrugged but didn't turn around. 

"Because I'm an idiot." 

"Well," he said, sounding a little relieved. "That's not too bad." She glanced at him. 

"You think he's good for me?" 

"I think he's great for you, Syl," he said. She nodded, tapped her nails against the glass. Her vision blurred and she blinked, turned away. 

"Me too," she whispered. She sat down beside him again. "But I just needed to leave." 

"So why did you come here?" he asked softly. 

"I couldn't go to Jondy," she said. "And what with Tinga's family it just wouldn't be feasible." She lowered her voice slightly. "I couldn't call Zack..." 

"So I was the next best thing to three people, huh?" he asked, half-joking. Her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. 

"No, of course not." She smiled at him. "Those are just the practical reasons." She smiled at him. "You've always been a kind, understanding person who never judges anyone, Zane." He flushed. 

"Wow, you really know how to flatter someone, Syl," he said, grinning. 

"It's true," she said. He flushed redder, ran a hand through his hair, yawned. 

"What time is it?" 

"Oh," he said. "Late." 

"We should sleep." 

"Yeah." He stood up but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to talk? Because I can stay." 

"It's okay," she said. "We'll have lots of time to talk." 

"How long are you going to visit?" 

"I'll go whenever you want me to," she said quickly. "I know I kind of just sprung myself-" 

"No, no," he cut her off, smiling. "That's not what I meant. Stay as long as you need to, it's no problem. I was just wondering." Syl smiled at him, then sighed. 

"I don't know how long," she admitted. He nodded slowly, stood up, depositing Kia on the floor. She looked at him, tail wagging, and waited. 

"Okay," he said. "Goodnight, Syl." 

"Goodnight, Zane." She smiled. "Thanks." He smiled back and got her some sheets, a few blankets, asked her if she was sure she'd be warm enough. She wondered where he'd learned to be so hospitable; it seemed like second nature to him. When he was satisfied with her sleeping arrangements he turned and left with the dog, and Syl settled back into the sofa. He was right: it was comfortable. 

  
Zane had been up for hours when her eyes opened just before noon. Kia was trailing him around the kitchen, tail wagging and tongue lolling. Syl yawned and pushed off her blankets, standing up and heading for the bathroom. When she emerged again she smelled something cooking. 

"What are you making?" she asked, walking into the kitchen. He turned and smiled at her. 

"Pizza." He showed her the homemade concoction that vaguely resembled what he'd identified it as and she smiled. "Want some?" 

"Please. But I need a bath first." 

"There's hot water," he said. "You can shower if you want to." She raised her eyebrows at him. 

"In California?" she asked, surprised; she'd never had it in her Sacramento place and she knew Jondy didn't from various complaints of her sister's. She could remember Brin mentioning that she'd had to heat water too whenever she wanted- Syl's eyes widened as she realized she'd just thought about Brin without feeling pain. Immediately guilt coursed through her. 

"I owe Zack," Zane said. "This is a great apartment he found for me." His smile faded as he experienced a similar reaction to the one she'd just had, and they both stood in silence for a moment. 

"I left a message the other day," Syl said softly. "Told him I'd be here." She touched his shoulder. "He'll call," she said, not sure if she was lying or not. She dropped her hand. "Anyway," she said, "I hope he'll call." 

"He will," Zane said quietly. "He has to." She nodded slowly, understood perfectly. 

"Yeah," she said. She forced false lightness into her voice. "I'm going to have a shower then." Zane nodded. 

"Okay." 

"Save me some pizza." 

"I will," he said. She nodded, took a deep breath, stepped back. She went into the bathroom and turned on the water, revelled at the feeling of it sliding warm over her hands. She got in and washed her long hair, its blondness half natural and half from the sun. Her hands lingered for a moment over her stomach and her heart froze. She had to call Krit, but she didn't want to. She decided to wait until he was at work, because she didn't think she'd be able to deal with his voice. She would cry, or worse not, and he would say he loved her and she would have to answer something, somehow, but what? 

When she was done washing Syl shut off the water and got out of the shower. She towelled herself off, pulled her clothes back on and realized they were the only ones she had. She joined Zane in the kitchen where he'd set a plate of pizza across the table for her. It was surprisingly delicious. 

"I have no clothes," she announced. 

"So go shopping," he answered, grinning. She considered that for a moment. 

"I have no money," she said. Zane leaned over in his chair so much that she was sure he would fall, but he didn't and pulled open a drawer instead. She craned her neck to see and took in the neatly organized arsenal of two handguns, a handful of grenades, and even a few dozen explosives. There was more, but she couldn't see the entire drawer. Zane pulled out a yellow envelope and tossed it to her. She caught it and opened it, found a few thousand dollars in crisp hundred-dollar bills inside. 

"Take a grand," he said, biting off another bit of his pizza. He smiled. "Get some really _nice_ clothes." 

"Where'd you get all this?" she asked, taking out the amount he'd suggested and putting the envelope back where it came from. 

"Half of it is Zack's last two allowances," he said. Syl nodded, knowing that Zack brought them all money every three months, always at least two thousand, often more. Well, all of them except Max and Ben anyway, being that Ben was cut off and he hadn't made contact with Max until a few weeks ago. But she suspected Zack had always had his own way of helping them too. 

"What are you saving for?" she asked. Zane shrugged. 

"Nothing, really. A rainy day. A really good gun." He smiled; at first glance he didn't seem like the kind of guy who would love weapons so much, but he really did. Secretly Syl thought it was because he liked to take them apart, like he did with so many other things. 

"Are you still a mechanic?" she asked. 

"Sure," he said. "Of course. I love that job." 

"You always liked that exercise where they made us take apart and reassemble our machine guns." She shook her head, made a face. "I always hated it. For about two months I kept putting the last two pieces back in the wrong order." 

"Well," he said. "Give yourself a break. You were four." She smiled. 

"Yeah, I guess." She waved the thousand dollars at him. "Thanks for this. I'll pay you back." He shrugged. 

"Whatever. I've got more than I need anyway." He took another bite of his pizza. 

"This is really good," she said, finishing her first piece. He smiled. 

"Glad you like it." 

"What time do you leave?" she asked. "For work, I mean." 

"What day is it?" 

"Um... Thursday?" 

"Okay. 4:00 then. Today's a short day. I get off at 9:00. Why, you want to do something?" 

"Maybe. You could show me Los Angeles." She smiled. "I've never been here." 

"No?" He looked surprised. "It's a pretty fun place. Of course, some people will tell you this is nothing compared to how it was before the Pulse." He shrugged. "But I was nine when that happened and I wasn't even here, so I'm not disappointed." He stood up and put his plate in the sink. "Tonight," he said. "We'll do something. Jondy likes to hit the clubs when she's here. Are you into that?" Syl shook her head. 

"Not really," she said. "Too many people too close together." He nodded. 

"Yeah, that's what I think. She likes it though." He shrugged. "Anyway, we can do something else. Go for a walk, a drive. I could show you some of the old studio sets in Hollywood they never took down. They're creepy in a fun way." He smiled. "I'm easy." 

"I have to phone Krit tonight," she said. Zane paused. 

"Doesn't he work at night?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okay," he said after a moment. She sighed and finished her last slice of pizza. 

"Thanks for lunch," she said. "I'll make dinner." 

"I like cooking," he said, taking her plate and dumping it in the sink with his own. "Anyway, stop acting like a houseguest." He grinned. "You're my sister, Syl." She gazed at him for a moment, nodded. 

"Right," she whispered. There was a long silence before Zane frowned, left the dishes, walked over. 

"You should go home, Syl," he said quietly. His hand was soft against her hair. "I know you want to." 

"I can't," she said, shrugging away from him. "I acted so stupid. I was selfish and mean and-" 

"Upset," he finished for her. "That's okay, you know." _That's okay, you know._ Syl's heart caught; Brin used to always say that. Zane continued softly, "We all are right now. I'm sure he wants you to go back too." Syl sat there for a long time staring at the table, at her hands. She felt her lip trembling and hated it, hated herself. 

"I miss her," she said quietly. A tear slipped down her cheek and then she couldn't stop them anymore. "I miss her so much." She heard Zane pull over a chair, felt him sit down next to her. His arms wrapped around her and she leaned in close, sighed through her tears. 

"I know," he murmured. "So do I." 

"Krit doesn't understand," she whispered. "He wants to move on but I'm not ready yet, Zane." Her voice shook. "I'm not ready." 

"Neither am I," he agreed. "It's alright. We were closer to her, Syl." 

"It hurts so much," she sobbed. His arms tightened around her. 

"I know," he said softly. "It's okay, shshsh." Syl pulled back a little, offered him a weak smile. He returned it, glanced down at himself. "Looks like I'll have to change my shirt again. You're bad for laundry, Syl." He was trying to lighten the mood and she managed a smile. She reached up to run a hand through his hair, touched his face. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek without really thinking about it. He gave her a small smile. 

"Thanks, Zane," she whispered, gazing at him, happy that he understood. His expression flickered with something for a moment, then he glanced from her eyes to the floor, back to her eyes. 

"Well," he said after a moment. He cleared his throat. "I understand how you feel, Syl." His voice was soft. "It's okay to be sad." He smiled a little, reached up for her hand, took it from his cheek and squeezed. She entwined her fingers with his and gazed at him for a long time; he held her eyes, his dark ones so soft staring into hers. She knew he was surprised when she slipped a hand behind his head to pull him down for a kiss, but she was a long way past caring now.   



	26. Chapter 25

Zane pulled back after a few moments, wide-eyed. She waited patiently for him to get over his shock and gather his thoughts. 

"Syl," he finally managed, his voice soft. "What are you doing?" She reached out and traced the line of his jaw, felt him shiver. 

"You're the one with a new girlfriend every week," she said, almost growled. "Figure it out." Zane opened his mouth, closed it. He swallowed and reached up for her hand, removed it from his face. 

"I don't smell anything on you, Syl," he said, confusion edging in his voice. "Why-" 

"I'm not in heat, Zane," she interrupted, low. "I just like you." Belatedly he stood up and backed away, but she just got to her own feet and followed him. 

"Syl," he said, sounding hurt, almost afraid. She stopped walking and softened. She reached for his hand, squeezed. 

"Please," she said softly. His eyes raised hesitantly to hers. She tipped her face up, kissed him again gently, running a hand through his hair. When he didn't resist too strongly she deepened the kiss, opening her mouth to him. Zane's hands slowly found her hips, rested there, as his tongue gently tangled with hers. She laid a palm over his barcode and felt him shiver. His hands trailed up her sides and around her back, pulled her closer; she sighed contentment into his mouth, long and low. Abruptly he was gripping her shoulders, and he pushed her away just enough to separate their lips. They were both breathing hard and his eyes were darker than usual, his expression a mixture of anger, shock, love, pain, desire, confusion, and sympathy. 

"Syl," he said softly. She waited but he said nothing more, so she reached for him again. He backed away from her slightly. "Don't." It would have almost been humorous if it hadn't been so hurtful. "Syl," he said, trying to snap her back to reality. "You're my sister." Her hand twitched and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

"That's all you have to say to me?" 

"No," he said softly. After a long moment he spoke again, and his voice was almost cold. "I'd also like you to leave." 

"Zane-" 

"Seriously," he said. "Get out of here. You're messed up, Syl and-" He stopped, took a breath, calmed himself down. His voice came back, soft. "Just go." Syl's fists clenched as he turned and walked away. She stalked after him and when they reached the front door he shoved her shoes into her hands and opened it. "Go," he said again. 

"Zane." She gazed at him sadly. "I'm sorry." 

"I know," he said. "Don't cry. Just go." He opened the door a little wider and she looked between it and him for a moment. Then she started crying. Zane closed the door. "Syl," he said. 

"I'm sorry," she repeated in a whisper. He lifted a hand, hesitated, lifted it again. His fingers brushed her cheek tentatively and she shivered. He dropped his hand. 

"Go on, Syl," he said. She turned and hugged him and he started to push her away, but finally sighed a little and reached his arms up to encircle her back. His whole body was tense but he couldn't not hug her because it made him distressed that she was distressed. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered, clutching at him. 

"Shshsh," he soothed gently. "It's okay." 

"Please let me stay here," she said quietly. He raised his hands to her shoulders and pushed her firmly away, shook his head. Syl reached for him and kissed him again, was surprised when he let her. He closed his eyes, reached a hand up to stroke her cheek for a moment, then gently ended the kiss and pulled back to look at her. There was a long silence. 

"I don't want to hurt you," he said finally in a slightly pained voice. Syl kissed him again, light and soft, before pulling back and looking at him. 

"Then don't," she whispered. "This is what I want." Confusion passed through his eyes and she smiled gently at him. "Please, Zane. This will make me feel better." He didn't step back from her, but pulled her close to him, stroked a hand through her hair. She rested her head against his shoulder and threaded her arms around his waist. 

"Syl," his voice came quietly. "I know you're upset, but I'm not going to let you wreck what you have with Krit." Tears misted in her eyes but she forced them back. "Especially not with me," he added. She pulled away from him a little and trailed a finger up one of his arms, felt him shiver again, felt the muscles ripple under his skin. 

"What if I want to wreck it?" she asked softly, raising her eyes to look at him. He let his breath out, long and slow. 

"I love Krit," he said. 

"You love me too," she countered. He nodded slowly. 

"Yeah." 

"And this is about me. Not him. I need you to do this for me because-" She broke off, swallowed. "Because..." Her voice lowered. "I need someone to hold me who I know I don't have a future with." There was a long, long silence. Finally he sighed and swept the hair off her face; his smile was gentle, understanding, and sad all at once. 

"Syl," he said softly. "I can hold you." She kissed him. 

"I want more," she whispered when she pulled back. Zane gazed at her; he looked so upset, and she knew that she was taking advantage of his goodness, but nothing she'd said had been a lie. 

"I hope you don't think sleeping with me will make your problems any less real," he said in a very quiet voice. "Because it won't, Syl." 

"Let me worry about that," she whispered. She kissed him again, soft and tender, and after a long time she felt him returning the kiss, softly. She pulled back, gazed at him for a long time. "Okay?" His nod was so brief that she barely saw it. Syl kissed him again, reached for the hem of his shirt. Zane's hands grabbed her wrists and she raised her dark eyes to his hesitant ones. 

"Wait," he said. "Wait, wait." She reached up and kissed him again. 

"It's okay," she murmured against his lips. "Don't worry, Zane." She raised a hand and touched her fingers to his cheek, smiled softly. "It's okay," she whispered once more, one of her hands pulling at his shirt again. He fought with his conscience for a long time, tense in her arms. She kissed him again once, softly. "Please," she whispered. "Please, Zane." His eyes fluttered closed, an expression of sadness passing briefly over his features. He stroked her cheek. 

"I'm worried about you, Syl," he said, his voice so gentle that it tore at her heart. 

"Don't be," she said softly back, her breath tickling his face. "Just kiss me." He protested only momentarily before letting her pull his shirt over his head, and she ran her hands gently over his bare chest before resting a hand on the base of his neck, over his barcode like she had before. Again, he shivered. 

"Syl," he whispered once, and this time he initiated the kiss. She returned it warmly, felt him press her gently back against the wall. His lips trailed down her throat, touched against the tender spot behind her ear. She sighed and felt his arms slip under her, pulling her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he smiled, kissing her tenderly again and carrying her to his bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed and she gazed up at him. He was so romantic; no wonder he had so many devout admirers. She felt her heart quicken as he laid down next to her, watched him gaze at her for a long time. Finally she smiled a bit self-consciously. 

"What? Don't like what you see?" She poked at him and he smiled. 

"You know you're beautiful," he said softly. She shrugged a little. 

"So what then?" 

"Nothing," he said. "Just thinking." 

"About?" 

"You." He smiled and she almost melted. She reached for him, kissed him again. His hands trailed shivers down her sides and slipped under her shirt, pushing it up to caress her stomach. She sat up and let him pull the shirt over her head, watched as he trailed a hand up one of her arms, the light touch giving her chills. He followed the course of his fingers with his lips, stopping at her collar bones and neck, bathing her soft skin in gentle kisses as his hands reached behind her and unhooked her bra. He tossed it onto the chair next to his bed where her shirt was and looked down at her with an expression that made her heart flutter. 

"Yes," he said. "Beautiful." 

  
At one point he bit her shoulder and then jumped backward, his eyes flying open. "I've never done that before," he said quickly. "I'm sorry, I don't know what-" 

"It's because I'm X5," she interrupted. "You..." She swallowed hard, calmed her breathing, struggling for words through her haze of passion. "It's like a... claim. An animal thing, but we do it too." 

"Oh." He looked confused, then hesitant. "So I just..." He trailed off and waited. 

"It's like... I'm yours." 

"Mine." It was almost a growl but she knew he didn't intend that; it excited her just the same. 

"Yeah," she forced out. 

"I'm sorry, Syl." 

"It's okay. I just-" She hesitated, bit her lip. "I was trying not to do that. I thought you knew." 

"I'm sorry," he said again. 

"It's alright, you had no idea," she said gently. There was a long silence while he considered her words, then finally she pulled him down for another kiss and it was quickly forgotten. 

  
Afterward, Syl felt tears prickling her eyes as she held him close. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, Zane." He kissed her temple, the soft spot behind her ear, smiled at her as his fingers slipped through her hair. Her tears spilled over as she whispered again, "Thank you." He hugged her close, kissed the top of her head. 

"I love you, Syl," he said. She pulled back slightly, looked up at him warily. He smiled. "Nothing inappropriate," he said, then laughed softly. "Whatever that is at this point." He shrugged. "I just love you." Syl smiled. 

"I love you too," she said. "And really... thank you." Zane smiled tenderly. 

"There's no need for that," he told her softly, then flushed slightly. "Besides, it's not as if I didn't enjoy it." Syl flushed as well and sighed, leaning into him contentedly. 

"You want to sleep now?" she asked. 

"Sure," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "If you want to." 

"What time is it?" 

"About one," he answered. "Maybe two. I don't have to be at work for a while." 

"Let's sleep," she said, and felt his smile. 

"Sounds good." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, reached down for his blanket and pulled it around them, closed his eyes. She smiled, brushed a hand over his face, and settled into his arms. 

  


* * *

  
Syl was woken by the phone ringing and yawned, stretched. Zane's hands and legs were tangled up with her own and he was still sleeping, oblivious to the world. She smiled and reached for the telephone, then froze suddenly as she realized it could be Krit. It rang again and she stared at it. Finally she forced herself to shake off the feeling and picked it up, bringing it hesitantly to her ear. 

"Hello?" She was amazed at the calmness in her voice. 

"Syl," came the gruff response. Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks and she collapsed backward into the bed, elbowing Zane in the same motion. 

"Zack," she breathed, almost laughing, almost crying. Zane bolted upright at the mention of that name and he looked at her, wide-eyed. 

"It's all gone to hell, Syl," Zack said softly. Her heart froze but she tried to keep the shake out of her voice, for him, for herself, for Zane. 

"What?" she managed. 

"Syl," he said. "I don't have much time. I have to go back." 

"Back?" 

"Back," he repeated; his voice was so soft, gentle, giving no indication of the harsh words that would follow. "To Manticore." 

"Wait, what are you talking- back to Manticore?" Syl asked, dumbfounded. Zane shot her a panicked, questioning look. 

"How many men?" he asked immediately. "Where is he?" Syl tried to understand what Zack was saying, but her heart was pounding so loud that all she could hear was 'Max,' 'have to,' 'no other choice' and 'I was the one who did it.' 

"If he's in trouble tell him we can be there in-" Zane started, but she put her hand on his chest to quiet him. 

"Zack, slow down, what's going on?" she asked. 

"I don't have much time, Syl," Zack said again. "I have to go back. I killed a man and now Max is being framed for it by Lydecker. I got her out of the city but she went back. There's no other choice." 

"Max?" Syl breathed, horrified. "No." She shook her head to emphasize her point even though he couldn't see it. "No. Why would she- why would she go back?" There was a short silence and when Zack spoke again he sounded very angry. 

"It doesn't matter," he said. Then he started talking about whether they should assign a new CO and discussing other regulations for them to follow after he was gone. She heard almost none of it, but then he added that they were all under strict orders not to launch any rescue attempts. 

"Zack-" 

"We agreed on that years ago, Syl," he said firmly. "If I ever got captured... You all agreed." 

"We never thought it would happen," she said softly. There was a short pause. 

"Why are you at Zane's?" he asked next. Before she could answer he said, "Never mind." His voice softened. "Listen to me, Syl. Do what makes you happy. That's all I ever wanted for you." Tears stung her eyes. "Look, I don't have much time." 

"You keep saying that. What-" 

"It wasn't Lydecker," he said. "It wasn't Lydecker who took Brin." 

"She's back at Manticore, isn't she?" Syl whispered, and pain flashed across Zane's face. 

"Yeah." Zack said it softly, gently, but it still stung. She nodded, tried not to cry. 

"We can come," she told him. "We can come and help you if you're in trouble." 

"I'm not in trouble," he said gently. "I'm going because I have to, or Max will get taken just like Brin. I'm _not_ going to let that happen again." Syl closed her eyes briefly at the guilt and anguish in his voice. 

"I'm sure you did everything you could," she whispered, wishing that he was in the room, that she could see him, take his hand, hug him. 

"I have to go now, Syl," he said softly. "I have to turn myself in." 

"No." Syl tried not to cry and clutched the phone tightly. "No." 

"I'm not going to say anything to compromise any of you." 

"God, Zack, that's not what I'm worried about," she snapped. Her voice softened with tears. "I don't want to lose you. There must be another way." 

"There's no other way. If there was-" 

"Zack, you can't do this to me. Please don't do this." 

"Syl," he said gently. "You're going to be fine." 

"I need you, we all do. Please, I need you Zack," she whispered. Zane's arms were soft around her waist, comforting, but she couldn't be comforted. 

"I have to go, Syl," Zack said softly. "You're going to be fine." 

"No, Zack, wait!" He obeyed and she took a huge breath, gathered herself. "Just.... don't forget who you are." Syl couldn't stop a sob from escaping her lips. "Please, just don't forget who you are." There was a long silence; for once she wished that he would lie to her, but he didn't. Instead he said nothing in response, which was as close as he could ever come to a lie. And what had she expected him to say? The only way he wouldn't talk, wouldn't compromise them all, would be to forget everything, and she knew that. 

"It's okay, Syl," he said finally, his voice so gentle that it broke her heart. 

"Zack, I love you, okay?" she forced out. There was a short silence. 

"I love you too, Syl," he said gently. "All of you." He added in a soft voice, "Bye," and then, too quickly, not slow and dragged out and dramatic like in stories or on television, there was a click. And he was gone. 

"Zack?" she whispered. "Zack." She swallowed, let her voice out in a shuddering sob, clutched the receiver to her ear with both hands. Desperation was a terrible feeling, choking her. "Zack, answer me, please... Zack!" Zane's hands were gentle against her shoulders as the phone clattered to the floor but she shrugged away from him, climbing out of the bed shakily, sobbing. Zane followed her into the living room and she collapsed onto her knees so suddenly that he didn't even have time to catch her. "No," she kept whispering. "No no no no no. I can't do this, I can't, I _can't."_ She pounded the floor with each word until the hardwood was shattered and broken, but it barely helped. Zane sat down next to her and she collapsed into his arms, low hiccuping sobs escaping her lips. She tried to tell him what was going on and he got the gist of it, pulled her close to his chest. "Not both of them, Zane, please not both of them." 

"Shshsh," he soothed, holding her tightly, unable to do anything more than whisper soft lies that everything was going to be okay. She clutched him tightly and sobbed as she felt his tears slipping hot and wet into her hair. It took a long, long time for her to pull back. She suddenly felt very calm, and her tears stopped. 

"Call a meeting," she said. He nodded slowly and they both stood up, realized neither of them was wearing anything, didn't care. 

"Syl," he said. "I can't get in touch with everyone." He swallowed hard but his voice was still choked with tears when he spoke. "I can get Jondy and Tinga, but you know Ben is cut off, and only Brin knew where the others were." His lip trembled and she reached for him, pulled him tightly into her arms, her calmness gone again, her tears slipping hot down her cheeks. 

"Zane, I can't," she whispered. "I can't, I can't do this." 

"I'll make the calls," he said softly after a long time. "But you first." She pulled back for a moment, gazed at him. "You phone Krit," he said. 

"I can't." 

"Syl, you have to," he said gently. "This was his brother too. This was _Zack."_ Syl wrenched away from him, twisting. 

"This _is_ Zack!" she yelled. "He's not dead! He's coming back!" 

"Okay," he whispered, reaching for her again. She slapped his hands away, sobbing, and retreated back into his bedroom to find her clothes. The phone was making the sound that meant it was off the hook, and slowly she walked across the room and hung it up. She gazed at it for a long time, picked it up again, started to dial. She slammed it down, picked up Zane's lamp and shattered it against the wall, finished dressing. She sat on the bed and stared at the phone. Slowly her hand reached out, cradled the receiver, pressed the right combination of buttons. Krit answered on the first ring. 

"It's me," she said. There was a long silence. 

"How are you?" 

"Not too good." 

"Where are you?" 

"At Zane's." She took a deep breath, swallowed. "Krit..." She bit her lip, forced herself to speak. "Something's happened," she whispered. "It's Zack." She heard his soft exhale of breath. 

"He called?" 

"Yeah." She failed at keeping the tears out of her voice. "We've lost him, Krit. We've lost him, he's gone back and I couldn't stop it." She was speaking quickly, her throat choked with tears. "Please," she whispered, begging him, _someone,_ to make this right. "Oh God, please." 

"I'm coming," Krit said. She held the phone tightly with both hands, nodded shakily. 

"Hurry," she whispered. "God, Krit, please hurry. Please, please hurry." 

"Shshsh," he soothed. "I'm leaving right now." There was a short pause as he allowed her to gather herself. "I love you, Syl," he said softly. Tears blurred her vision again and she closed her eyes briefly, nodded even though he couldn't see her. 

"I love you," she whispered back. "I love you so much." 

"I have to go now, Syl," he told her. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Hurry," she forced out. "Just hurry." 

"I will," he promised. She hung up the phone, called shakily for Zane. He walked in and she blinked at his nude state, having forgotten everything for a moment. He glanced at the shattered pieces of the lamp, reached out and touched her hair gently. She managed a tiny smile and left the room to let him dress, heard him on the phone with first Jondy, then Tinga. When everyone had been notified the two of them curled up on the sofa together, staring vacantly at nothing. Syl tried to imagine what she was going to tell Krit about Zane, but her mind was like soup. Everything before the moment of Zack's call seemed like a dream now, unimportant, trivial. 

After what must have been several hours she turned her head to look at him. Tear tracks had dried on his face and she reached up a hand, stroked it through his hair. He started and blinked several times, as though his mind had been somewhere else. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" she asked softly; his eyes were hollow when they met hers. 

"I'll tell them I was sick," he said. She was amazed by the calmness in both their voices. 

"I think we're in shock," she told him. After a moment he nodded. 

"Probably," he agreed. She reached for his hand, squeezed it tightly. 

"I love you, baby brother," she whispered, stressing the last two words slightly, turning to look at him as she did. He nodded in understanding. 

"I love you too," he said, pulling her close. It was the hug of a brother, and she was comforted by it. She raised a hand to rub her throbbing temples and it brushed against her shoulder on the way down to her lap. She winced in sudden delicious pain and remembered Zane's bite, bringing everything back. Syl stifled a sigh and leaned back into his arms, waiting for Jondy to arrive.   



	27. Chapter 26

Jondy walked in that night without even a hint of cheer; her dark blonde hair hung limp to her shoulders, barely brushed, her blue eyes were dull and hollow, and her arms were crossed tightly over her stomach as though she was trying not to vomit. She managed a weak smile for Zane when he opened the door for her, and he was worried because she'd knocked. Syl came and stood in front of her, reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. 

"He's really gone?" Her voice was so small; despite all her talk to the contrary Syl knew she'd never really expected this to happen. Slowly she nodded, and Jondy's lip trembled. Syl reached for her, pulled her close, held her tightly as she cried softly. 

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay, baby sister, shshsh." Jondy clung to her, sobbing now, and Syl walked her further into the apartment, where they all took a seat on the sofa. Jondy reached for Zane's hand and squeezed. 

"I didn't-" She broke off, found it hard to finish her sentence. "I never- this is..." Finally she gave up but Syl and Zane both nodded. 

"I know," he said gently, his hand stroking against her soft hair. Jondy sat there for a long time, staring at nothing. Finally she spoke again. 

"How long have you been here, Syl?" Her voice was quiet. 

"A couple of days," she said. Jondy raised her eyebrows and Syl was sure her tone would have been bitter if she hadn't been so tired. 

"Fast work, Zane," she said. He glanced at her, confused. 

"What?" he asked; Jondy looked at Syl. 

"How does that work with Krit?" she asked. "Are you going to tell him you two slept together?" 

"What- How-" Syl swallowed hard, glanced away. "I don't know." Zane was wide-eyed. 

"This whole apartment reeks of you two and sex," Jondy informed them. "You're lucky I can breathe through it." Syl felt fatigue settle in on her at the complications that was going to bring. Zane's voice was soft. 

"We have more important things to worry about," he said. Jondy stood up abruptly. 

"Fine," she snapped, and left the room. 

"What was that?" Zane wondered, bemused. Syl remembered Jondy's complaints about his frequent girlfriends, the look in her eyes when he'd described any of them. 

"I think she likes you," she said softly. Zane looked momentarily confused, then stressed. 

"Oh." He shook his head. "I'm too tired." 

"I know," Syl agreed. "But she's right... what am I going to tell Krit?" Zane looked at her, looked at his hands, back at her. 

"Do you still want to wreck it?" he asked gently. 

There was a long silence and then Syl whispered, "No." She blinked against tears. "Do you think that's selfish?" 

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's not. But it does complicate things slightly." 

"I'm sorry I got you into this, Zane," she said softly. 

"I could have said no," he pointed out. She gazed at him for a long time, wondered if that was true; she had taken complete advantage of his goodness, his desire not to hurt her. She'd begged him, said it would help her; could he have really said no? She reached out and touched his face. 

"I'm sorry," she said again, softly. He opened his mouth to respond, but Jondy reentered the room at that moment, frowning at them. Syl dropped her hand from Zane's face and leaned back. Something flickered in Jondy's eyes before she spoke. 

"So we go," she said calmly. "We go get him. All of us." 

"He gave us direct orders not to." As soon as she'd said it Syl realized she didn't care. "When the others get here we'll talk about it." Jondy nodded. 

"What else did he say?" she asked quietly, sitting down in one of Zane's chairs. 

"He said he loved us," Syl answered softly. Tears sprung to all their eyes and Jondy nodded again. 

"It's not fair," she said. Her words hung in the air for a long time. 

"No one ever said it was going to be fair, Jondy," Zane said softly. "What happened to Brin wasn't fair." 

"No more," Jondy whispered. "No more." They sat there, silent, unable to comfort her, the world shattering in around all of them. 

  
Zane and Syl slept sitting where they were, and even Jondy drifted off for two or three hours, exhausted from crying and driving and crying again. It was close to noon the next day when Tinga arrived, her hair flowing down her back because she hadn't had time or thought to secure it in its customary double-plait. 

"What did you tell Charlie?" Syl asked, not even getting up from her seat. They were all just sitting there, too tired to move, and Tinga immediately collapsed into one of the chairs as well. She sat there for so long Syl wondered if she'd even heard the question, but finally Tinga's eyes narrowed and she frowned. 

"I don't remember," she said. Syl nodded, not surprised. Confusion passed over Tinga's features. "What's that smell?" Jondy waved her hand in the general direction of Syl and Zane. 

"It's them," she said. "We closed the bedroom door and opened the window in there but you can still smell it everywhere." 

"But I thought Krit..." Tinga trailed off, managed a small smile for Syl. "Okay," she said. 

"What are you going to say when he walks in and smells that?" 

"Hush, Jondy," Syl said, closing her eyes. 

"Well," she persisted. "At least it was just because of the grief." Confused, Syl glanced at her. 

"What?" 

"Grief," Jondy repeated. "At least you two were so devastated that you weren't thinking right." There was a short silence; Tinga was watching but not saying anything. Zane glanced at Syl and then he sighed. 

"It was before," he said softly. "Before Zack called." Jondy stared at him, stricken. She stood up. She sat down again. 

"Oh," she said, and blinked, stared at her hands. "Oh." 

"Jondy," Zane murmured. "I'm sorry, I didn't-" 

"Why are you apologizing to me?" she snapped, brushing angrily at her tears. _"I'm_ not the one you just betrayed." Her eyes flickered with the lie of her words and then she glared at him. "You should apologize to _Krit."_

"I will," Zane said, running a hand through his hair. "When all this is over, I will." 

"Dammit, Zane!" Jondy stood up and kicked his coffee table, overturning it. Her fists clenched as she reeled on him. "It's _never_ going to be over." She turned and stalked into the kitchen, banged cupboard doors and slammed drawers. Syl heard the familiar sound of a gun being loaded and then the front door opened. 

"Want me to come?" Tinga called immediately, but Jondy caught the alarm in her voice. She came back into the room and smirked. 

"We're not suicidal, Tinga," she snapped. "That defeats the whole purpose of... us." Her eyes flitted to Zane and something gleamed in her eyes, a flicker that wasn't entirely sane; Syl knew that look of Jondy's well, and she'd never liked it. Her sister cradled the gun in her hands. "I'm going," she said. "I'll be back later." Then she left the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Zane glanced at Tinga, nodded as though she'd just said something. 

"When all this is over," he said. "I'm going to have a lot of things to say." 

"It'll probably have to be sooner than that for Krit," Tinga said softly. "As soon as he walks in here he's going to know." 

"I don't smell anything," Zane said, frustrated. 

"Of course you don't," she said, her tone gentle. "You can't smell yourself." 

"I'll talk to him as soon as he walks in," Syl said in small voice. There was a short silence and then Tinga's brow furrowed. She glanced in the direction Jondy had gone, looked at Zane, frowned. 

"Have I missed something with her?" she asked quietly. 

"A lot," Syl agreed heavily. She smiled bitterly. "But nothing important compared with what's going on now." 

"I miss him already," Tinga said softly. She glanced at Syl as a thought struck her. "Did he say anything about Case?" 

"No." Syl shook her head apologetically. "There wasn't enough time for him to say anything much." Tinga nodded sadly. 

"We were talking a little while ago about him," she explained. "What to do now that he's old enough for school..." She trailed off, her eyes tired and worried. "He's so unusual." 

"It'll be okay," Syl told her sister softly, reaching out to touch her hand. Tinga's dark eyes raised to hers and she forced a smile. 

"Of course." She reached out and squeezed her hand. "How are you holding up?" Syl shrugged. 

"How are any of us?" she asked softly, and no one answered. 

  


* * *

  
When Krit arrived Jondy was already back from target practice at a junk yard, less angry but not speaking now, which was fine with Syl. They heard the door opening and Syl's heart froze, but she forced herself to her feet, forced herself to walk to the door. He stepped inside, closed it, gazed at her for a moment. She knew the exact moment that he realized, because his breath caught sharply, his mouth half fell open, and his eyes became painful to look at. Syl reached for his hand but he jerked away. Then he reconsidered and held onto her tightly. She managed a weak smile. 

"Come outside with me," she said, desperate for his agreement. Krit nodded and Syl was glad that the others, especially Jondy, were staying in the living room. She called a quick goodbye and pushed him into the hall, closed the door behind them; Krit looked relieved to be out of the apartment. He reached out and ran a hand down her cheek, his eyes so sad that they broke her heart. 

"Why?" he whispered. He opened his mouth to say something else, closed it, shook his head. A few tears slipped down his cheeks and he ran a hand slowly through his hair. "Why, Syl?" he asked again finally in a heartbroken voice. She squeezed his hand, dropped it, her lower lip trembling. Her hand shook as she brushed the hair from her face. She took a deep breath, released it, took another. 

"I know it doesn't mean anything," she whispered. "But I'm so sorry." 

"That doesn't answer my question, Syl," he said softly after a long time. 

"I don't know how to answer your question, Krit," she said, equally soft. He gazed at her. 

"Why?" he breathed again. 

"There isn't really anything that I could say that would fix it," she whispered. Krit's eyes slowly raised to hers. 

"Were you in heat?" he asked softly. She shook her head and his eyes dropped again. "Then no," he said. "There isn't." Neither of them said anything for a long time. 

"What's going to happen now, Krit?" she whispered when she couldn't stand the silence anymore. 

"I don't know, Syl," he said in a quiet voice. He glanced at her. "Are you pregnant?" 

"No," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. It made her feel slightly less like the lowest form of humanity when she realized that she wished the answer was yes. Krit took two steps slowly backward and fell against the wall of the hallway, sliding down to a sitting position on the floor. She slowly sat across from him, and he laid his head on his knees, gazing at her sideways for so long that it made her uncomfortable, but she didn't turn away because she owed him that, owed him everything. 

After what must have been at least a half hour he blinked and raised his head. He got to his feet and she did too, slowly. Then he sort of stood there for a few moments, and hesitantly met her eyes again. She swallowed nervously and waited. 

"Okay," he said. "Here's what we're going to do." His voice sounded so calm that it was unnerving. "I'm going to forgive you, and you're going to wait here," he began; her eyebrows lifted in surprised relief at the first statement, then she frowned at the second. He finished, "And I'm going to kill Zane." Her eyes widened as he started past her and she reached out, grabbed his shoulder. He tore his arm away from her violently and glared. _"Don't,_ Syl," he growled. 

"It's not his fault," she said urgently, knowing he could really hurt Zane, knowing Zane could really hurt him. "It's not," she repeated. 

"What, you climbed on top of yourself and made that smell?" he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm and pain. She cringed. 

"I did it," she whispered. "It was me. I started it." He stared at her for a long time, his dark eyes so sad and hurt and betrayed that it made her want to cry, go back in time and shoot herself before she could do what she did. 

"Why?" he asked that question again, so soft and heart-wrenching. Tears slipped down her cheeks. 

"I don't know," she sobbed. "I don't know." 

"Don't," he whispered, his voice hard. "Don't you dare cry, Syl, don't you dare make me feel sorry for you." Her tears came uncontrollably stronger and she tried to stop them but the more she did the more upset she became, so finally she pressed a hand over her mouth to try and stifle her cries. Krit stared at her for a long time. "Stop it," he said. 

"I'm trying," she whispered. "I'm trying." After a long time she managed to get her breathing under control, managed not to sob so loudly. She took a deep breath, looked at him. He nodded. 

"I'm going in now," he said. "Stay here, Syl." He started to walk past her but she reached out again, grabbed his arm. 

"No!" she said, pulling him back. He wrenched out of her grip again and then suddenly his hand was on her upper arm and she felt her head hit the wall with a sharp crack. She gasped more in surprise than pain and stared at him. 

"Don't you dare tell me what to do now," he said, low. He released her roughly, shoving her back against the wall. "Stay. Here," he repeated, his words intentionally spaced as he turned away again. 

"Don't hurt him," she whispered. "Please, Krit, don't." Her hands reached out tentatively, touched his shoulders, caressed as they pulled him backward. She felt his whole body stiffen and he whirled out of her gentle grasp. 

Syl heard another crack and her head reeled, strange lights dancing in her eyes as she suddenly found herself on the floor. She looked down and there was blood on the smooth hardwood; a shaky hand raised to her face and felt it trickling down from her nose, felt the pain hit her, sensed the broken bone. Krit's hands were on her shoulders, pulling her upright, but she'd already forgiven him by the time he had her on her feet, reaching out to pull him close. She'd deserved that, she knew it, even if he had said to her once, _I don't care what a woman does, I would never hit her._

All that made the second blow even more surprising. This time it was to the side of her head more than to her face, and she felt her scalp open, warm blood soaking her hair. The pain came again and she felt the bone around her left eye give way slightly under his fist, and its vision went red as blood coursed down her face. Her body had automatically gone slack at the first blow out of habit, though her mind registered that this was not the same as the others, that this was Krit and that made everything different. She still reacted the same way though, waited for the blows to stop, waited for his fists to lower and for him to realize what he was doing. She looked into his eyes but they were cold, concentrated, far away somewhere, almost calm in their determination. 

Vaguely, in the background of her hearing, off to the side where she couldn't see or sense or care about, she heard the sound of a door slamming. Then shouting. Screaming. Krit's next blow never came as he was dragged off her and without his hand clenched firmly on her arm she couldn't stand, and she felt herself collapsing, falling. She raised her head, looked around for Krit, saw him standing against the opposite wall, staring at her as Tinga stood between them, fire in her dark eyes. Her hand rested firm against his chest and her lips were moving but Syl couldn't hear what she was saying, only a ringing in her ear and the pounding of her own heart. After a few moments Tinga seemed satisfied with Krit's calmness, and she slowly lowered her hand. Syl jumped as she suddenly felt Zane leaning down beside her; he reached gently for her arms to help her get up. She saw Krit start toward them and watched Tinga physically shove him back against the wall; fear leapt into Syl's heart for her sister's safety. 

"Go on," Zane said in a quiet voice, releasing her once she was on her feet. "Get inside." 

"He didn't mean it," she told him, and she didn't know if she believed it but she had to because this was Krit and if he had meant it everything was going to change. She stressed again, "He didn't." 

"Yeah," Zane answered, not sounding like he agreed at all. "Go, Syl," he said. "Inside." He glanced at Tinga. "You too." 

"No, I'm staying," she said firmly, her eyes flashing. "I'm not letting you two kill each other in a testosterone rage." Zane's mouth set into a firm line but he finally nodded, giving Syl a little push. 

"Go on," he said. 

"He didn't mean it," she whispered again to no reply; she managed to walk shakily past Krit and into Zane's apartment. When she was inside dizziness hit her; the wall was too far away for her to grab, and her knees buckled and then she was falling again. Jondy came out of nowhere and caught her, let out an _oof,_ dragged her to Zane's bedroom and let her fall onto the bed. She left and Syl laid there, trying to understand what had just happened. Her sister returned with a first aid kit, treated her wounds. 

"Not so bad," she murmured as she cleaned the blood away so gently Syl didn't even feel it. "It looks worse than it is." 

"You should be a nurse," Syl whispered. Jondy glanced at her as she reached for some gauze. 

"I have been," she said. "You'd know that if you'd ever cared to ask." Syl's eyes fluttered closed but that hurt so she opened them again. 

"Not now," she whispered. Jondy reached down and swept her hair away gently. 

"No," she agreed with a soft smile, her hands gentle and light against Syl's face. "Not now." 

  
_The corridor back from psy-ops was cold, but anything had to be better than where she'd been, and she was tired and afraid. She'd almost forgotten that she'd ever been anywhere else but psy-ops, and the darkness was close, pressing in on her. _

"701," Lydecker barked, glancing at her sideways as they walked. She turned her face to him immediately, knowing she looked tired and gaunt, her eyes hollow. He fixed her with a careful stare. "Was there a bird in the woods that day?" he asked, his voice soft in a way that wasn't kind. 

"No, sir," she answered immediately, knew somewhere in the back of her mind that once she would have considered that a lie. "There wasn't a bird." 

"Why did you kill X5-376?" 

"I was jealous, sir." 

"And your punishment?" 

"Lenient for such a crime," she said, glanced at him. "Thank you, sir." 

"Who are you?" 

"X5-701, sir." 

"Your barcode number. Now!" She stopped walking and snapped to attention. 

"331366001701, sir!" she answered immediately. He nodded, satisfied, and motioned for the guard to continue with her. She saluted, then watched him turn and leave, left with the other man, following beside him quietly and obediently as they walked along the cold concrete floor. When they got to the barracks where the siblings she barely remembered now were sleeping, he left and she collapsed into bed, shivering. 

"Here," Jondy's voice came sweet and low through the darkness immediately. Her body pressed warm against her sister's icy skin and Max's did the same on the other side. 

"Don't worry, Syl," she whispered, hugging her close, taking her feet between her own and rubbing her shoulder to make her warm up. 

"Syl," Jondy whispered. "Sleep." Hearing her name spoken again after so long made tears slip down Syl's cheeks. She'd almost forgotten, almost broken the promise she'd given to Zack when they'd dragged her off, her promise not to forget who she was... 

"They told me there wasn't a bird," she whispered, sobbing, shaking, teeth chattering. Max's hand was smooth against her hair. 

"I saw it," she whispered. "It was there." Relief coursed through Syl as her other sister kissed her forehead, pulled her closer. 

"Sleep now," Jondy said. "You did a good job, Syl." 

"They believed you," Max agreed softly. "They gave you back." Syl realized she didn't understand, didn't realize that Syl hadn't been lying, but that she'd believed _it, that they had released her because they'd_ won. _Jondy's blue eyes met her brown ones knowingly and she nodded. _

"Sleep," Jondy said again, gently. Held close between her two warm, loving sisters, she shut her eyes and allowed weeks of exhaustion to catch up with her, both glad and guilty that neither of them had mentioned Bram. Syl dreamed of scorching light and ravens. 

  
Jondy suddenly let out a small cry and her hands stopped; Syl shook off the memory, looked up at her sister through vision that was getting better by the moment. Jondy looked at her and she recognized that expression- her eyes were devastated, begging. The fact that Syl had never liked Jondy had caused her little sister to frequently seek both approval and comfort from her, and she was looking for comfort now. Syl waited for her to speak. 

"Could we have saved them?" Her voice was so soft, so frightened; she sounded so alone. "Did we miss something, Syl?" She considered Jondy's question, remembering all her guilt over Brin, the signs they didn't see, the things they didn't listen to, being away when she might have needed them. She remembered in the days after Zack's disappearance talking about going to Seattle and not doing it because things came up, things always came up. She raised her dark eyes to Jondy's desperate blue ones and then smiled a little, shook her head. 

"No," she said firmly, reaching her hand up to touch her sister's cheek. "No, Jondy, we couldn't have saved them." Jondy's eyes closed briefly and she let her breath out, long and slow. 

"Okay," she whispered in a voice shaking with both pain and relief; she nodded, hugged herself and cried, nodded again. "Okay." She collapsed onto the bed shakily, tears slipping down her cheeks. Syl draped an arm around her and pulled her close, murmuring soft, reassuring words of comfort and love.   



	28. Chapter 27

Syl slept until late the next morning. She opened her eyes, felt stickiness and warmth against her face, reached up to scratch it away. Pain seized her and she gasped as her fingers met a soft bandage; a hand grabbed her wrist a little too late and she met Zane's eyes. 

"Don't do that," he warned. Then everything came back. 

"Oh God," she said, sitting up abruptly, staring at him standing next to the bed. She took in the bruises on his face and neck, the way he was holding himself, favouring his left leg slightly. 

"It's alright," he said, sitting down in the chair beside the bed, more heavily than would normally be necessary. "It's just a few broken ribs and a twisted ankle. Jondy's already bound them both." 

"I'm so sorry, Zane," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." 

"We both know Krit has a temper," he said softly, raising pained eyes to her injuries. 

"Jondy says it's worse than it looks," she told him quickly, wishing her face didn't look so bad, all swollen and torn up. 

"He pulled all his punches," Zane said quietly. "For me." 

"Good," she said, relieved. "Good." He looked at her. 

"Why didn't he pull them for you, Syl?" he asked, then started another question, glanced away. "I guess I don't have to ask why you didn't fight back." 

"He pulled his punches for you because if he didn't he would have killed you," Syl said softly. "Or come close at least. He wasn't trying to kill me." 

"Could have fooled me." Zane's words were soft but they stung. "His hands were going for your neck when Tinga and I came into the hall." Syl's tears spilled over and she shook her head. 

"It's my fault," she whispered. "It's all my fault." 

"Maybe," Zane said heavily, reaching out a hand to squeeze her shoulder. "But you didn't deserve all that." Syl looked at him and asked the question she was afraid to. 

"How did Krit look when he left?" she asked softly. Zane withdrew his hand and smiled a little. 

"Better," he said. "Better than me." 

"I know that shouldn't make me happy..." She trailed off and his smile broadened to almost its usual grin. 

"Sure it should," he said. She smiled back slightly, met his gentle dark eyes. 

"We have to talk." 

"Yeah," he said, letting his breath out. "I know." 

"Where are Tinga and Jondy?" 

"Out," he said. "They're doing some reconnaissance." 

"Reconnaissance?" 

"For the mission," he explained. "To get Zack out of Manticore. And Brin too, while we're there." 

"Do you think she's still Brin?" she asked softly. Zane shrugged. 

"Doesn't matter," he said. "We'll deal with that later, first step is to get them out of there." 

"Zack's going to be really mad," she said, a small smile playing on her lips. Zane laughed. 

"Can't wait," he said. He stood up, limped to the bed, sat down on the edge of it, took her hand gingerly. "So let's talk," he said softly. "Now." Syl nodded slowly. 

"I'll start," she said, and took a deep breath. "Zane... you're still..." She swallowed. 

"Your brother?" he finished softly. She met his eyes in surprise and he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I know." 

"But how-" 

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted gently. "It doesn't matter why." 

"This could really wreck us," she said, her lip trembling. "I'm sorry." 

"Syl, you apologize too much," he murmured, his hand soft against her hair. "And I don't want it to wreck us," he said softly. "So it's okay. We'll make sure it doesn't." He dropped his hand she watched him for a moment, his dark eyes thoughtful. "This is going to make us closer, Syl." She almost laughed. 

"How?" 

"I don't know," he admitted. He added softly, "Maybe like it made Zack and Brin closer. Every time I saw them he still called her little sister." Syl met his eyes slowly. 

"You know about that?" 

"I know everything about Brin," he said. "We're close." His gaze wavered and he swallowed, added in a whisper, "We were close." Syl touched his arm and they sat in silence for a long time before she spoke again. 

"That was different though," she said quietly. "That was a heat thing." Zane looked perplexed. 

"Only the first time," he said, his tone bemused. Then he took in her expression, cringed. "But you didn't know about that, did you? I should shut up." 

  
_"It was so long ago," Brin said as Syl listened en rapt, holding the phone tightly. "I don't think about it so much anymore, and I know Zack doesn't." Syl was surprised by something in her voice. _

"You want him to think about it?" she asked. 

"No, it isn't even like that. It was more than just that one night." Brin sighed. "Look, I said I didn't want to get into this." 

"I'm so curious I may burst," Syl admitted, and then smiled. "But whatever you want, Brin. We can always talk about this again." 

"Of course. Next time." 

  
Syl blinked against tears because there hadn't been a next time; she looked at Zane and managed not to cry, managed to smile at him. 

"Never mind," she said softly. "It doesn't matter." 

"I don't want..." He trailed off, let out his breath. "We can get past this, Syl." 

"I hope so, Zane." 

"And I could have said no," he reminded her. She raised her eyes to his slowly. 

"Why didn't you?" she asked softly. He gazed at her for a long time. 

"You looked so lost," he whispered finally. "I know how that feels. And..." He shrugged a little, looked embarrassed. "You asked," he said. "You asked, Syl, and it's as simple as that because I'm an idiot." She stared at him, finally managed a small laugh, then reached for him and pulled him into a close hug. 

"You're not an idiot," she said as his arms slipped around her back and squeezed. "You're the sweetest person I know." 

"I hope you never ask me for anything like that again, Syl," he said gravely, his voice soft. She pulled back and touched his soft reddish hair tenderly. 

"I won't," she said. "I promise I won't." 

"Good." He smiled. "So are we okay?" She stared at him, shook her head in bemusement, laughed. 

"I think we might be," she said, not believing her own words. "But it seems too simple." 

"Well, I'm a simple guy," he joked, and she smirked. 

"Hardly," she said. Zane flushed a little and stood up, offering her a hand. She got to her own feet, felt dizziness hit her, waited for it to pass. She started to smile at him, then frowned. His eyes were fixed on her shoulder, where her shirt had fallen away slightly, exposing where he'd bitten her the night before. 

"Syl," he whispered, and she saw something frightening enter his eyes as they darkened impossibly. He was looking at her like he owned her, like he wanted her. His hand slipped around her shoulder and started to pull her closer but she brought a fist up and shoved it against his chest. 

"Don't," she said firmly. Zane met her eyes, blinked the glaze that had settled over them away, dropped his hand. 

"Whoa," he said, swallowing hard, taking a step back. 

"Okay, so we know you shouldn't do that," Syl remarked, trying to lighten the mood even though she was a bit shaken. She hadn't really known what that bite was going to mean for them, but now she had an idea. 

"I didn't even-" 

"I know," she said, gentle. "But don't be offended when I smack you hard if you ever do that again." He didn't even smile, instead nodded gravely. 

"Please do," he said. There was a long, uncomfortable silence before humour touched his voice and he added, "Breakfast?" 

"Must be lunch by now," she pointed out. He shrugged. 

"Whatever," he said. "Pancakes?" Syl smiled. 

"Sure." She followed him into the kitchen, sat and watched him find all the ingredients. "So what's up with you and Jondy?" she asked, saw him pause momentarily. 

"Nothing," he said. 

"You haven't said anything to her?" 

"There hasn't really been that much of an opportunity what with all the fighting and sleeping I've been doing, Syl," he said, grinning at her. "Besides-" He stopped when the door opened; Tinga and Jondy came into the room, smiled when they saw that Syl was up. 

"Got us some good prelim?" Zane asked. 

"Yeah," Jondy answered. "And we found us a nice little something extra up on a roof." That's when Syl saw Krit walking into the apartment, and when he saw her injured face he almost turned around and walked out again, his eyes wide and pained. 

"In there," Tinga said, stopping him and shoving him into Zane's bedroom. "You too, Syl." 

"I'll save you breakfast," Zane said. She nodded, stood up, started past him. He grabbed her arm and swallowed, hesitated before speaking. "Don't lock it," he said quietly. "It takes a lot longer than I'm comfortable with to break down these doors." Syl jerked away from him roughly. 

"Don't," she hissed. "He didn't mean it." She kept walking, went into the bedroom, paused as she closed the door. She locked it and sat on the bed, watching Krit's back where he was standing by the window. Zane had been right; he did look far less hurt. There was almost not a mark on him, and she doubted it was because he was that much better; Zane must have just taken it. She bit her lip. 

"Krit-" 

"I don't even remember," he whispered, finally turning around to look at her; he couldn't make eye contact, couldn't look at her face. "I don't even remember doing it." 

"It's okay," she whispered. "I deserved-" 

_"No,_ Syl!" he interrupted immediately, suddenly beside her on the bed, pulling her close. "No," he whispered. "Don't say that, it's not true." She started crying, clutched at him. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. 

"I know," he breathed, running a hand through her hair, careful to avoid her wounds. "I know, I know." He rubbed a hand over her back, pulled away slightly and touched her uninjured cheek, tears in his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her, softly, tentatively, as though he was afraid she'd shove him away. She held him closer, sobbed and kissed him back, both of them needy. 

"Syl," he whispered, deepening the kiss, and she sighed into his mouth. When they needed to breathe again his lips moved to her cheek, the tender spot behind her ear, down her throat. She sighed contentedly again as he pushed aside her shirt to bathe the curve of her neck in kisses; she knew they weren't alone in the apartment but at this point she didn't care. It had been so long and she wasn't sure if she wanted this now but she knew he needed to know she still loved him. 

Krit pulled back abruptly and her eyes flew open to meet his, confused; his features were set in pain again, and he reached out a shaky hand and touched it to her skin. She shivered. 

"What's wrong?" she whispered. His hand dropped and he stood, backed up against the window again. His hands grasped the sill as though he was trying not to fall. 

"That," he whispered. "Is that what I think it is?" 

"Wha-" she started, then realized, looked down where her shirt had fallen away from her shoulder, exposing where Zane had bitten her. She stood up. "He just did it," she said quickly. "He didn't even know why, it was just instinct." 

"I can't look at that," he said quietly, glancing away. "It's so... obvious. I was trying to forget that you-" He broke off and took a deep, steadying breath, not making eye contact again. He swallowed hard. "I don't even know what it means." 

"Neither do I," she admitted, decided against telling him what had happened before when Zane had touched it. She was just glad she hadn't bitten him back, or there might have been real problems. She and Krit had both done that each other the first time they'd been together and the effect had been electrifying, so she doubted it would have been a good thing to have done the same with Zane. "Maybe it means nothing," she said, but neither of them looked convinced. 

"Syl," he said, and ran a hand through his hair. "Tell me what you want to do." 

"Me?" she asked, surprised. He nodded. 

"Before... this...." He swallowed again, his voice soft. "Before all of this you left, Syl. Were you planning on coming back?" She thought about that for a long time. 

"I don't know," she finally admitted. "I really don't." He let his breath out slowly and paced to the window. 

"With all of this..." he began softly, paused. "With all of this I don't know if I can..." Tears slipped down Syl's cheeks. 

"I know," she whispered. "I know." He stared at her for a long time. 

"I need you not to cry right now, Syl," he said finally, his voice firm. She forced her tears to stop, gazed at his tense face with blurred vision. 

"I want to try again," she said softly. He sat down again and she tentatively took a seat next to him, reached up to brush her fingers through his dark hair. "What do you want, Krit?" There was a long silence as he stared at his hands, and then finally his voice came back softly. 

"I don't want you to see Zane anymore." She blinked several times and stared at him, then edged slightly away from him without really meaning to, shocked. She couldn't speak for a long time. 

"You can't-" she finally sputtered. "You..." 

"Syl," he said firmly. "I don't want you to see him." After a long pause she stood up and it took several minutes to keep her tears at bay. 

"Visiting Tinga is impossible," she whispered finally. "You know I can't stand Jondy for more than an hour." She bit her lips so she wouldn't cry. "With Zack and Brin gone..." She took a deep, steading breath against her tears. "You and Zane are all I have left." Krit stiffened. 

"Aren't I enough?" he asked shortly. She turned and walked to the window, crossed her arms over her chest. The void between them filled with silence for a long time. 

"It's not about that," she said finally. 

"I don't trust you, Syl." His voice was soft. That hurt, but she didn't blame him. How could she? It was all her fault, and none of it his. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I wish I could change it." 

"But you can't," he countered. She heard him stand and she raised a hand to touch the windowpane, not looking at him. "It's what I want," he said. 

"This is my brother," she whispered. "I can't just-" 

"You have to," he cut her off firmly, almost angrily. "If you want to be with me, you have to earn my trust back, Syl." 

"I need time to think," she whispered. "I have to think about this." There was a long silence. 

"You do?" he finally asked, his voice soft with pain. She turned back to him. 

"It's not about that," she said. "It's not about you, Krit." 

"No," he agreed. "It's about you and him. You went after him this time and he went after you when you were in heat, Syl." 

"Don't," she said, stung. "That's not how it is. You know Zane's always had more sensitivity to that sort of thing. It's not his fault he was made that way." 

"I don't want it to happen again." 

"I told you it wouldn't." 

"I'm sorry, Syl," he said softly, sounding more sad and firm than sorry. "I don't believe you." 

"I have to think," she told him again in a tiny voice. She glanced at him, gazed into his dark eyes for a long time. "This is going to change everything, Krit," she whispered. "Is that what you want?" He turned abruptly and pulled open the bedroom door. 

"You already changed it, Syl," he said shortly. "Tell me when you've decided." He left the room and closed the door behind him, and she stared after him for a long time. Then she sat down on the bed and fixed her eyes on the wall, trying not to cry. The door opened again and she hoped he'd reconsidered, but it was Tinga standing there. 

"Can I come in?" she asked gently. Syl nodded and she closed the door again, came and sat next to her sister. An arm slipped around her and she was pulled close. "Give him some time," Tinga murmured. "He's hurt and vulnerable right now." 

"How could I do this?" she whispered, tears threatening again. She was so _tired_ of crying. "How could I do this to him?" 

"People do stupid things when they're scared," she answered softly, rubbing a hand over Syl's back and threading it through her long blonde hair. Syl pulled out of her sister's arms, feeling Tinga's eyes on her as she crossed the room and leaned against the wall, hugging herself. 

"Sometimes I think it would be better for him if I just left him alone." There was silence for a long time. 

"You're probably right," she said quietly, smoothing the blankets on Zane's bed. She stood up but didn't approach, just gazed at Syl with her soft dark eyes. "But Krit loves you." Tears slipped hot down Syl's cheeks. 

"Why?" she whispered. 

"How can you ask that?" 

"He sees something I don't see," she said softly. Tinga smiled warmly. 

"That's love," she said, her voice gentle. "It doesn't have to make sense." She walked over and entwined their fingers, squeezed. "You're too hard on yourself." She brushed the hair off Syl's face and smiled a little. 

"You don't understand," she whispered, turning away. Tinga's hand dropped. 

"I know," she said gently. "That makes everything easier, doesn't it?" Syl glanced at her, didn't say anything for a long time. She shrugged her sister's question off. 

"He doesn't want me to see Zane anymore," she whispered. Tinga looked momentarily surprised, then took a step back and sat on the bed. Syl watched her for a moment and then walked over, sat next to her. 

"I didn't really see that one coming," Tinga admitted. Syl shook her head. 

"Me neither." 

"I'm sure he doesn't mean forever." 

"He seems to." 

"He'll come around." 

"So you're telling me I should agree?" she asked. Tinga was silent for a long time. 

"I think you owe him a lot," she said finally, then glanced at her. "And I think you should stop running away because he needs you, especially now with all of this going on." She touched her face. "And you need him too I think." 

"I know," Syl whispered, shutting her eyes against more tears. "I know." Tinga opened her mouth, closed it. She frowned. 

"I think you need to tell him whatever it is that Zack and Brin knew." 

"No," she whispered. 

"I remember," Tinga said. Syl's eyes flew to hers. "You were at my house. It was so long ago I'd almost forgotten, but Krit mentioned it last year." 

"I don't want to do that, Tinga." 

"I think you have to." She paused. "And I think you need to stop seeing Zane. For just a while. Krit needs to know you still love him." 

"Of course I do." 

"I know," she whispered. "But he's scared." Her fingers lightly brushed Syl's face, touching against the edge of the bandage across her eyes. "And this..." 

"It's worse than it looks," she repeated what she'd told Zane, shrugging away. At the thought of him her eyes flew to Tinga's. "Is Krit out there with him?" 

"No," she said softly. "He already left. He's staying in some motel." 

"Oh." She forced herself to sound calm. "I'm staying here tonight." Tinga nodded slowly. 

"I know." She reached for Syl's hand and squeezed. "It's going to be okay." Tears blurred Syl's vision again. 

"Tinga," she whispered. "Why did all this have to happen?" Her sister let her breath out, long and slow, reached a hand up to touch Syl's hair on the uninjured side of her face. 

"I don't know," she murmured. 

"Why did Zack have to go back there?" Syl whispered, tears stinging her eyes and spilling over. "Brin was bad enough but-" She took a shaky breath but it dissolved into tears. "Oh God, why? Why did he have to go back? He promised he'd always be here, he promised... he _promised,_ Tinga." She found that she couldn't stop repeating herself, and her hands were shaking. Tinga wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. 

"I know," she said, and Syl heard tears in her voice too. "I know." 

"Don't leave me, Tinga," she sobbed, holding her tightly. "Please don't. I couldn't do it. I couldn't." 

"I won't," she whispered into Syl's hair. "Don't worry. None of us are going anywhere." Tinga's voice was so strong and confident that she was almost comforted, could almost believe she knew for sure. 

There was a knock at the door, loud. Syl jumped. 

"Hurry up and get out here!" Jondy's urgent voice came. 

"Come on," Tinga said, releasing her and standing up. "We'll talk about this later." Syl nodded and followed her sister into the living room where the others were sitting watching television. "What is it?" Tinga asked; Jondy held up a hand to silence her, motioned at the television. They looked at it and saw a newscaster talking. Zane turned up the volume slightly. 

"... now receiving confirmed reports that one of the five men on board this helicopter was in fact a federal prisoner. His name has not been released but the man had been arrested for the murder of Department of Defence agent Daniel Vogelsang. If you're just joining us, we are in the Cascade mountains where a helicopter en route from the Seattle airport has crashed. Of the five people on board, four were government agents, and the fifth is now confirmed to be a federal prisoner." Someone ran up to the reporter and handed her a piece of paper; she paused, read it, looked up at the camera again. "This just in," she said. "The earlier reports that there was gunfire heard at the crash site have now been confirmed by two other witnesses, one of whom is with us now- sir!" After a moment a man joined the newscaster on screen. "Tell us what you saw, sir," the woman said. 

"Yeah," the guy started. "I seen this helicopter flying overhead, and it sort of started flying funny, like not straight... before I really knew what was going on, it flew into the trees there-" he pointed behind them at the crash. "-and that's all I really seen. I didn't want to get too close because I was afraid it would explode or something. But... I did hear gunshots after the thing crashed, and I'll testify to that. That's all I have to say." He walked away, and the newscaster turned back to the camera. 

"There you have it. A fatal helicopter crash that may have involved foul play has killed five men, one of whom was apparently a man arrested on a federal warrant. If you're just joining us-" The televison clicked off and they all sat there for a long time. 

"Well," Zane said flatly. "That sort of complicates things, doesn't it?" 

"He's not dead," Tinga said. "There's no way he's dead." 

"He's said to me time and again that anything's better than going back there," Jondy said, her voice soft with tears. No one spoke for a long time. 

"He's not dead." Tinga's voice was much quieter this time. "He can't be." 

"So we wait," Jondy said. "We wait and see if he comes back." 

"Hang on," Zane spoke up. "What if this was all staged by Lydecker to get him quietly to Manticore? If he is there, we have to move fast or he won't be Zack anymore by the time we get to him." They all considered that. 

"I don't see how we can go in if we don't even know if he's there," Syl pointed out, glad to be discussing a mission. Missions were safe, familiar; she became almost a new person with a clear mission in play. Her regular problems could recede into the background for a while, and that was nice. She hadn't had a mission in a long time. 

"I agree," Tinga said after a moment. "If we go in we risk capture, and I don't think we should do that unless we know Zack is there. What if we went in and then he was actually out, and we all got caught? He'd have to come save us and I don't think he'd be too happy about that." A smile played on her lips momentarily at the thought. 

"What about Brin?" Zane asked quietly, and they all cringed. 

"She was so sick," Tinga whispered after a short silence. "I think she must be one of them now. Zack didn't go back for her. I have to believe there's a reason for that." Her hand touched soft against Zane's hair but he jerked away, stood up and slammed abruptly out of the apartment. Jondy rose quietly and went after him. Syl looked at Tinga but neither of them followed or said anything after that, because there wasn't a thing they could say that would make any of it better.   



	29. Chapter 28

"Zane?" Syl called that night as she emerged from the bathroom, buttoning her shirt and towelling her hair dry. She'd just taken a shower, one of many she'd enjoyed since discovering Zane's access to the luxury of hot water. 

"In here," he answered from the living room. She headed that way, hung in the doorway for a moment and smiled as she saw him settling into the couch, getting ready to read a book. 

"Where are Jondy and Tinga?" 

"They're out," he said. "Jondy got restless. You know how she is." She nodded, walked over and sat next to him, fidgeting for a moment with her hands. She heaved a sigh and he tossed the book away, smiling gently at her. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. They locked eyes and she let her breath out in slight frustration. 

"I have to leave," she said. "I can't come back." 

"Tinga told me," he said softly. Her brows lifted in surprise. 

"She did?" she asked. Zane nodded, his eyes sad. "I'm sorry," she whispered. There was a short silence and then he shrugged. 

"There isn't really a choice," he said quietly. "Is there?" 

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "Of course not." 

"Syl..." Zane reached out, took her hand, stroked her palm for a moment with his thumb, his brow furrowed. She pulled away and his eyes locked with hers. "You could stay," he said softly. She stared at him. 

"What?" 

"You could stay." 

"Zane-" She broke off, bit her lip, managed a smile. "No. I can't." 

"Syl..." 

"I have to go," she whispered. "We can still talk, Zane. I'll call you. I'll call you a lot." He let his breath out, slow. 

"I'm worried about you, Syl." 

"I know. I'm going to be okay though. Maybe if I go now I can still work this out." She glanced at him. "Then after a while Krit won't be so angry at us." 

"That's what I'm worried about," Zane said. "He's mad at you." He reached for her hand again and she hesitantly allowed him to take it. "You should stay here." She raised her eyes to meet his, gazed at him. 

"Hey, Zane?" 

"Yeah?" He squeezed her hand. 

"There's a big difference between sex and love," she said softly. He blinked, let go of her and leaned back slightly, his eyes hurt. 

"I know." 

"You sure?" 

"Of _course,"_ he hissed, annoyed; he glanced at her. "I just..." He let his breath out again in a long sigh. "I don't know." He said again, "I'm worried about you." 

"You're not in love with me, Zane," she told him heavily. It took him a long time to nod. "You're not. You're just mixing everything up." She bit her lip. "But you don't have to protect me from Krit. He's not going to hurt me-" 

"He already did," he interrupted, and she paused. 

"He's not going to do it again," she said firmly. "This is Krit. He didn't mean it, Zane." 

"Yeah, you keep saying." He softened. "This all happened for a reason, Syl," he said. "You were running away." She stood up. 

"You're right, I was. Because I was stupid and afraid and upset. Not for any other reason." He met her eyes slowly. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Zane," she said, and sat down beside him again. "Don't worry. I'm going to be okay. Krit's good for me, you said you thought so." 

"I did think so," he agreed. "Before he hit you. Before we..." He averted his eyes, didn't finish his sentence; she was glad. 

"You're not in love with me," she said again. He sat there for a long time. 

"I feel like I am," he told her finally; she was struck by his honesty, but that was Zane's way. 

"Well you're not," she said gently. "You just want to look after me. There's a difference." She touched his shoulder. "But that's sweet, Zane. It is." Her smile faded and she glanced away, murmured, "I'm going to miss you, baby brother." 

"Syl," he said softly. "You ran away for a reason. We... happened... for a reason. You-" He said nothing for a long time, seemed to be trying to decide whether or not to continue. Finally he added softly, "You crashed that car for a reason, back in Nevada. You're not telling me everything." She stood up, forced a nervous laugh. 

"You're saying I crashed the car on purpose?" 

"No," Zane said, getting to his own feet. "You said it was because you have shell-shock." She swallowed, shrugged. 

"That was a long time ago, Zane," she whispered. 

"Tell me about it," he said softly. Again she swallowed, harder this time. 

"I... I don't..." She trailed off and he sighed a little. 

"You can tell me," he said. "I'm your brother. I love you, remember?" He grinned at her but her eyes filled with tears that she tried unsuccessfully to blink away. He walked over and rested a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?" he murmured. She took a deep breath, turned around, her lower lip trembling. Zane's eyes softened and he folded her into his arms; she clung to him, cried into his shoulder. "Tell me," he whispered. "You're scaring me now, Syl. Please tell me." After a long time she pulled back and walked away from him, sat down on the sofa again. She felt his eyes on her and glanced up, motioned for him to sit next to her. 

Finally she whispered, "Remember the other day you said to Jondy that no one ever promised that this world would be fair?" Her sudden question, her voice slow and tiny, surprised him, and he blinked in confusion but nodded slowly. 

"Yeah." 

"Maybe you were right, but we were promised it would be better, Zane." Her voice was quiet and she reached her arms up, hugged herself. "Brin, Lexy, Dar... they all said it would be better. It wasn't for me though." She squeezed her shoulders and felt his eyes on her as he listened patiently. "Not for long," she continued, then swallowed, added, "When I first got out, I was pretty quickly put in foster care like most of us. My foster home was amazing and I loved it. But I wasn't there for long, and I got moved to another, and then another." Her hand twitched as her thoughts turned to her last foster home, and she held it tightly with the other one, searching for the strength to speak the words she didn't want to. 

"Syl," Zane said softly, and she felt his hand on her hair. It made her skin crawl and she jerked away, trying not to cry out. 

"No," she bit out, squeezing her eyes shut. "No, don't touch me, please." 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, stricken, withdrawing his hand. 

"It's okay. I just- if I'm going to get this out I have do it." She looked at him and he swallowed hard, then nodded, his eyes wide and deep with concern. 

"The last foster home I was ever in was okay," she whispered. "It wasn't bad at all. But my foster father had a brother who used to look after me and their son Jared sometimes if they were out. He was a bit younger than me. Ten. I would look out for him, you know?" She smiled a little. "He reminded me of Krit." Her smiled faded as she forced herself to continue. "This guy, my foster uncle... John. He was about forty, maybe a bit younger. He used to look after us sometimes. Sometimes it was just me, because Jared would go with his parents places where they never brought me." She looked at her hands. "I was just the foster kid, so I didn't matter so much... So John... I used to go to his place sometimes. Once when I was twelve... I..." She breathed out a long sigh and gathered herself, tried to get the shake out of her voice. "I was over there for the weekend and..." Suddenly she couldn't go on; the words froze in her mouth. Her hands started trembling; after a long silence Zane's arm crept around her shoulder and squeezed. She looked up at him and he brushed the tears from her cheeks. 

"What is it?" he asked, his voice soft. She swallowed, shrugged away from him, hugged her legs up close to her chest. Zane smoothed the hair away from her face cautiously, his dark eyes full of concern as he gazed at her. 

"Do you need tryptophan?" he asked after a long silence. She glanced at him. 

"What?" 

"You're shaking, Syl," he said gently. More tears slipped down her cheeks and she tried to calm herself, clenching and unclenching her fists. After a while she could breathe normally again and she let out a shuddering sigh. 

"You don't have to," he said gently, worry etched into his features. "You don't have to tell me." 

"I was twelve," she whispered. "Twelve years old. I didn't- I _couldn't_ fight back. I don't know why. I was a soldier. But I didn't know what to do with..." She trailed off, forced herself to continue. "I didn't know what to do with that kind of threat. Manticore didn't even tell us anything like that existed." She stopped again. 

"I don't understand, Syl," he said softly when she didn't continue. She blinked against her tears, took a steadying breath. 

"He liked little kids, Zane," she whispered, her voice barely even there. "Liked them the way most men like women." Tears spilled over again as she heard his sharp intake of breath. "Twelve years old," she sobbed, and hugged her legs, started rocking back and forth. "I was only twelve years old." 

"No," he breathed, and she heard his voice catch, saw him drag his hands slowly through his hair. "No." Then he gathered himself and reached out for her, pulling her close to him, cradling her in his arms and letting her cry against his chest. "How-" he began, stopped, started again. "How did- What-" Again he had to stop, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, squeezed her close. "It doesn't matter," he whispered. "It doesn't matter." 

"Zane." His name was all she could get past the sobs escaping her lips. She clung to him and let him hold her and rock her like a child. Finally he had to get up to find her some tryptophan, but he returned almost immediately and handed her a glass of milk, whispering soft words and rubbing a hand soothingly over her back as she swallowed the pills. 

"Syl," he whispered when her shaking subsided, reaching for her again and folding her into his arms. "Does anyone else know?" She pulled back and brushed at her tears, but more just followed. 

"Only two people did," she forced out as she cried. "Brin and Zack." 

"Oh God," he breathed, closing his eyes briefly and pulling her close again. "Oh God, Syl. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She sobbed harder, collapsed against him. 

"I'm so alone," she whispered. "God, Zane, I feel so alone." 

"You're not," he whispered back, tightening his arms around her. He slipped a hand through her hair, rubbed her back. "I don't know what to do," he admitted when her sobs only got louder. She managed a smile and hugged him tighter. 

"It's okay," she murmured. "I'm not going to break." She pulled back and gazed at him; he looked very close to devastated. 

"I understand now, Syl," he whispered. "I understand why you're..." He swallowed. "I get it. Everything." 

"I'm so sorry I dumped this on you, Zane," she said, pulling back from him slightly. "Especially now, when I have to leave..." He sat up straighter. 

"I forgot about that," he said, then forced a smile. "But don't be sorry." They sat in silence for a long time. 

"It's never going to stop," she whispered finally. "It's just never going to go away." Zane looked at her as she cried softly, said nothing for several moments. 

"This guy..." He paused. "He's dead, isn't he?" She met his eyes. "Zack killed him, right?" 

"It was a long time ago, it doesn't matter now." 

"It matters to me." There was a short silence. 

"No," she said. "No, Zack didn't kill him." 

"Why not?" he asked, his voice full of disbelief. Syl stood up and walked across the room. She shrugged uncomfortably. 

"Because I was having a nervous breakdown at the time, okay?" she said, her voice tense and guarded. 

"But he never went back? That's not like Zack." 

"He was busy," she said shortly. She heard his long exhale of breath behind her and he stood up. 

"Syl, what is it?" he asked softly. "What else?" She turned around slowly. 

"There is nothing else," she said, staring him down. She wasn't going to tell him anything else; he'd heard more than enough. Brin didn't even know about the rest, about the baby. And she was going to be leaving Zane in less than twenty-four hours. She couldn't dump that on him; she didn't want to. 

"Syl," he said. She shrugged away from his hand, walked past him toward the kitchen and started looking for something to eat. He followed her and pulled a chair over, watched her. 

"There's nothing else," she said when his gaze became piercing. She turned back to him and crossed her arms over her chest, waited for his response. When none came she glanced at the floor, kicked at an imaginary spot of dust. When she looked at him again his eyes were soft with support. 

"Okay," he said, and she knew he hadn't accepted her statement, but that just made her feel better, because it meant he wasn't going to ask again. Relieved tears slipped down her cheeks and she sat next to him, cried softly. Zane's hand reached out and touched hers gingerly, curling his fingers around her own. They sat in comfortable silence for a long time before Zane spoke again. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. Her tears kept falling but she managed a nod. 

"I'll be okay," she said. He nodded, and there was another brief silence. 

"You want to blow something up?" he asked then, grinning. Syl stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing, smiling through her tears. She nudged at him. 

"You've always been a bit _too_ into exploding things," she said wryly, and he shrugged, laughed back at her. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. 

"Just let me know if you want to," he said, winking at her. She grinned and punched his stomach gently, sighed. 

"Okay," she said softly. Zane's smile faded slightly and his eyes became serious. 

"You'll call," he said. "You're right, it'll be okay." 

"I'll miss you so much," she whispered. 

"I know." 

"With Brin and Zack gone..." She trailed off and he took her hand, squeezed. 

"I know, Syl." 

"I have to go," she said, not sure whether she was trying to convince him or herself. He nodded and she stifled a sigh, stood up. "I'll be leaving tomorrow morning," she said softly. Again he nodded. 

"When Zack comes back, things will be better," he said in a quiet voice. He was saying what she'd been telling herself since this whole thing started, but when she heard the words out loud they didn't sound as comforting as she'd hoped. But she'd be back again, once things settled, once Krit came to his senses and calmed down. Then everything would be okay. 

  
"Call when you get home," Tinga said, smiling a little, almost sheepish. "So I don't worry." 

"I will," Syl promised, reaching her arms out and hugging her close. Tinga squeezed her back tightly, waited several moments before letting go. 

"Take care of yourself," she said softly. She nodded and then Tinga took over hugging Krit from Jondy and Syl waited for her little sister to walk over. When she did her blue eyes were full of sadness and resignation. 

"Sorry about..." Jondy trailed off and shrugged. "Well, you know." 

"Me too," Syl said honestly. She opened her arms, folded her into an embrace. "Call us when you're ready to go the next step at finding Zack." Jondy pulled back, nodded. 

"I still expect him to walk through one of our doors or call us up anytime." She swallowed. "I really miss him." Then she cleared her throat and changed the subject. "Hey, so you bartend huh?" 

"Yeah." 

"Maybe you could apprentice me sometime," Jondy said, smiling. "Our guy won't let me behind the bar." 

"You're still... doing that?" 

"What, dancing? Yeah." 

"Why?" Syl frowned. "You've got lots of money, Jondy, we all do." 

"It's not about that," she said. "I like it." 

"I don't." 

"Yeah, well, neither did Zack." Her voice became sad. "But only because he thought someone would see my barcode." She smiled and tugged at her hair. "It's covered, though." 

"That's not what I'm worried about." 

"I'm nineteen years old, Syl. I can do what I want. And I like dancing." She narrowed her eyes stubbornly and Syl sighed. 

"Fine," she said, hugging Jondy again. "I'll see you later, huh?" 

"Sure," she agreed. "I'll see you." She started to turn away. 

"Hey, Jondy?" Syl called; her sister paused. "I love you, you know." 

"Yeah. I love you too." Her eyes slid to Krit and he smiled at her, said goodbye; she nodded and walked away with Tinga. Then Zane was standing in front of Syl, a sad smile on his lips. He reached out and hugged her close. 

"I love you, Zane," she whispered, holding him tightly. He freed himself from her arms and stepped back. She felt Krit's eyes on her back and frowned. 

"I'll talk to you later, Syl." 

"Yeah," she said softly. "Later." She watched Zane's eyes meet Krit's but he averted his gaze when Krit turned and climbed into the truck. Syl felt guilt stab through her as she saw how much that upset Zane, and she stifled a sigh. 

"Bye, Krit," Zane said, his voice barely above a whisper. Syl shook her head sadly, turned and got into the truck. The engine started, but the vehicle didn't move. Krit looked at Zane from the driver's seat and nothing was said for a long time. 

"Bye, Zane," he said finally, the tone of his voice unreadable even to Syl. Zane looked momentarily surprised, then overly relieved, and then he opened his mouth to say more. Krit pulled the truck out of the driveway so fast that the tires screeched and they left black marks where they turned onto the street. Before Zane's form rushed out of view Syl was just able to catch the look in his eyes, like he was a puppy who'd just been kicked. 

  
When she got back to their apartment in Pueblo, Syl learned that Krit was definitely done with gloom and tears; he was ready to start living again. Syl wasn't. He was also angry at her, but obviously trying not to be; she didn't know why, it wasn't as if she blamed him. Everything that had happened was still her fault, that hadn't changed, but she didn't know how to fix it, or even where she could start. 

For the first few days they didn't even know how to act around each other, making small talk that you would with someone you'd just met, not a person you'd known since before you could remember. Syl slept in her own room, didn't talk to him during their uncomfortable dinners, never smiled at work. Everything was different; with each passing day Krit became more and more angry, more and more upset, and more and more stressed at trying to keep all that in and put on a face of control. He kept trying to live like they had before everything had happened, as though they could just revert back to the way things had been before she'd run away, but it was impossible. The girl she'd been before she'd left only a short time ago seemed like a stranger to Syl now, someone she couldn't hope to connect with, let alone be again. 

"Syl," Krit said one night after they'd been home from work for an hour. Two weeks had been filled with awkward silences and averted eyes. He sat next to her on the sofa, closer than they'd been in weeks, and she glanced up almost warily from the book she was reading. 

"What?" 

"Look at this," he said, passing her a newspaper. She took it and saw a number of circled advertisements, all for apartments. "There are too many bad memories here," he explained quietly. "I thought we could start over in a new place." They locked eyes. "Things might be better." Syl scanned what he'd circled, saw that they were all one-bedrooms, wished that didn't make her nauseous. She put the paper down and stood up. 

"It's not the apartment, Krit," she said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a glass, filling it with water. He followed and stood against the counter a few feet away. She turned back and met his dark eyes hesitantly. "It's us." She dropped her eyes, her voice. "It's me." 

"I want things to be better," he said softly. "But it's hard when you won't even try." 

"I _am_ trying," she whispered. He gazed at her for a long time. 

"Not enough," he said finally, walking over to her. She let him take her hand, let him reach up and stroke his fingers down her cheek. Her face was almost completely healed now, with only the hint of damage around her left eye that would soon be gone too. She wouldn't scar; she never had, not even when a doctor's knife had freed a tiny baby from her womb. 

"I am trying," she repeated as he gazed at her. He let go of her hand and ran his own through his hair. "It's late," she said. "I should get to sleep." She started to turn away but his hand reached for her wrist and stopped her. 

"Not in the other room," he said softly. She said nothing for a long time. 

"I can't, okay?" she whispered. "I just can't." 

"I miss you, Syl," he murmured gently. She shook her head, pulled her hand away and started for her bedroom. "Is it about Zane?" he asked softly, halting her. 

"God, Krit," she hissed, not turning back. _"No,_ it's not about Zane. It's about _me,_ okay?" She walked down the hallway, into her room, and shut the door, undressing and falling into bed. She hugged herself, wondering if they would ever be able to go back to the way things were before. 

Their grief processes were too different. While he wanted to be busy, talk, live, hold each other, Syl wanted to cut herself off from everything and everyone for the simple reason that if you weren't close to someone, they couldn't hurt you, and she'd had more pain than she could stand now. She closed her eyes against her tears so they wouldn't fall and tried to get some sleep. 

  
_Syl emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair clinging to her scalp, eyes tired and hollow. When he saw her Zack stood up from the motel-room chair. _

"Are you okay?" he asked cautiously. She nodded, mute, still trying to take everything in, still trying to make herself believe that this wasn't some wonderful dream, that Zack really was here, that he really had saved her tonight. 

"I'm going to shower now too, okay?" he asked. Again she nodded, and watched him run a hand stressfully through his blond hair before he nodded and left the room, shutting the bathroom door behind him. Syl turned toward her bed, felt sudden pain that she was now so used to lance through her body. She climbed fully-clothed under the blankets and hugged her legs up to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. After a few minutes of lying there in the quiet room, the pain washing over her in waves, teeth gritted, fighting the shakes that were slowly taking over her body, she heard the bathroom door open again. His footsteps approached her bed and then he was standing beside her, leaning down so he could meet her dark eyes. He held up one of the towels she'd used to dry herself after her own shower; the white fabric was stained dark red with blood. 

"Syl," he said quietly. The blanket was pulled tightly around her shaking shoulders; she could feel her teeth chattering. She looked at him but she wasn't really seeing him, didn't really believe he was there. "Syl," she heard again, and then she felt his hand touch her shoulder. A small cry ripped from her throat and her whole body stiffened as the contact sent fear and revulsion through her body, then guilt because she loved Zack, so why, why? Immediately he removed his hand, alarmed, and stood there for a moment, obviously uncertain as to what he should do. 

"What?" she whispered, finally finding her voice. Then she added, "It's cold in here." 

"Are you bleeding?" he asked softly. She gazed at him. 

"Yes," she said in a small voice. "It usually goes away in a few days." She watched Zack's eyes widen, watched him swallow hard. 

"Get up," he said gently. "I'm taking you to a hospital." 

"What about Lydecker?" she asked, averting her eyes from his, the name already striking fear through her heart. 

"We have to go," he said, firm but gentle. "Come on, stand up." Reluctantly she pushed the blankets back and sat up, but her body stabbed with sudden pain and she pitched forward, crying out, gritting her teeth. Luckily his arms were there, supporting her, stopping her from falling. 

"It hurts," she whispered against him, her whole body shaking. "I'm cold, Zack." 

"You're having a seizure," he said, leaning her back gently against the headboard. He hurried over to the bag containing his things and searched for his bottle of tryptophan, then found it and poured half a dozen pills into her hand, which she downed immediately. After what seemed like forever her body's painful convulsions slowed, and finally she gave one last violent shake before she rested back against the headboard, completely exhausted, the pain just as strong. She managed a weak smile. 

"Stress brings them on," she explained. Zack nodded. 

"I know." 

"I'll be okay." 

"You're bleeding," he reminded her. "We have to get to a hospital." A few tears slipped down her cheeks and she closed her eyes briefly. 

"I don't want to move," she whispered. "I don't think I can." Zack reached over and grabbed the hotel room key and the keys to his motorcycle, got his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. He took her hand and slipped an arm around her, helping her to her feet as gently as possible. She stumbled, biting down hard on her lip to stop tears as the movement jarred her, but they slowly made their way out to his bike and climbed on. Syl winced as she was put in the worst position she could possibly have in this condition, but she didn't complain. Zack waited for her to wrap her arms around his waist and then revved the engine, driving as quickly but gently as was possible on a motorcycle toward the nearest hospital. 

  
Syl's eyes snapped open; for a moment she didn't why she'd woken up, since the dream hadn't been too upsetting, just a memory of the night Zack had saved her from her foster uncle. Then she felt the subtle trembling of her body; her blankets were twisted, she was cold, and pain ebbed from the shakes that were gradually getting worse. She threw the bedspread off and got to her feet unsteadily, using the wall for support as she made her way to the kitchen. She found the tryptophan and swallowed a few, pouring herself some milk; she had to wait several minutes before she was able to keep the glass steady enough to drink. 

When she could walk without falling over she started back toward her bedroom, her hands and shoulders shaking, gritting her teeth against the pain and so they wouldn't chatter. She paused outside her bedroom door and gazed at Krit's for a long time, made out the steady breathing of sleep through the darkness of their quiet apartment. She made a split decision and walked to his door, opened it. She saw him sleeping, facing away from her, looking small in the bed meant for two. She bit her lip, clenched her fists to try and force her shaking away, and padded over to the bed, slipping in between the sheets next to him, careful not to wake him up. She pulled the blankets around her shoulders and closed her eyes. A moment later she felt a soft hand against her cheek and she jumped. 

"Sorry," Krit said softly, smiling at her. She managed a small smile back as he brushed the hair off her face. 

"Hey," she said. 

"Hey," he said back. "You okay?" He rubbed her trembling shoulder and she nodded as she felt the seizure subsiding. After a moment her body gave a few more violent shakes and then stopped. Krit smiled gently at her, dropped his hand. They gazed at each other for a long time as Syl got comfortable in the warm bed. Then Krit leaned over, kissed her. She let him for a few moments before pulling back. 

"I just want to sleep," she said softly. He paused, his eyes hurt, but nodded slowly and laid back in bed away from her slightly. 

"Sure," he said quietly. Her lower lip trembled. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I can't-" 

"It's okay Syl," he said, reaching for her again and pulling her close. 

"I really love you," she whispered, afraid he didn't know it. He pulled back a little and smiled, his eyes sad. 

"I know," he told her. "I love you, too." She rolled onto her back, out of his arms, and stared at the ceiling through the darkness. 

"You were right the other day, at Zane's," she whispered after a long time. She felt his eyes on her but he didn't say anything. She glanced at him. "I just don't think it's enough anymore, Krit." 

"No, I was wrong," he said finally, his voice soft. "It's enough, Syl. It is." 

"No," she said, shaking her head, causing a few tears to slip down her cheeks. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Not for me. I told you I was screwed up, Krit. I tried to warn you." 

"So let me help you," he said, his voice almost urgent. A hand touched her cheek, swept her tears away, his fingers soft and light against her face. "Let me help you figure out your screwed-up life." 

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't." His hand fell away and he let his breath out in a frustrated sigh before he reached under the blankets and entwined their fingers. 

"What do you want, Syl?" he asked in a very quiet voice. She closed her eyes against her tears, turned into his shoulder. His hands slipped around her and pulled her close as she cried softly. 

"I want things to be the way they were before," she whispered through her sobs. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder and stroked a hand over her back. 

"They will be," he said. "Things are going to get better now that we're-" 

"No," she cut him off, her voice shaking. "No, before. Before all of this. I want things to be the way they were when we were kids." 

"Come on," he murmured. "You don't mean that." 

"Yes I do." 

"Nothing about this world is worse than what they did to us there." He sounded so sure of himself that it amazed her how wrong he was. 

"No," she sobbed. "No." 

"Syl," he said. "Look at me." She looked and his dark eyes were full of concern and love and confusion all at once. "Don't you remember what they did to you? Psy-ops? The training, the yelling? We wouldn't even have _names_ if we hadn't thought of them ourselves. We were little children with machine guns, Syl. How can you say anything is worse than that?" 

"Because at least we were _safe_ there. At least we knew everything that was going to happen all the time and we were _prepared_ for everything." 

"I wasn't prepared to see Eva's head snap back," he whispered. "I wasn't ready for her blood against the wall." 

"Don't," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, twisting away. "Please, please don't." 

"Syl," he said, his voice equally soft. "Nothing is worse than Manticore." 

"You don't understand!" 

"Then tell me!" 

"No one told us the truth about what it was like out here, Krit. No one told us about all the things that could happen to us, about all the things people could _do_ to us." His eyes were all questions but she didn't want to go on. She leaned into him again, sobbing. "We never should have left. Oh God, oh God, we never should have left, Krit, why did he make us leave?" 

"Syl," he whispered, holding her close. He sounded scared. "Shshsh. What happened to you?" 

"No," she exclaimed, tensing up, starting to pull away. "No no no no no." 

"Okay, it's okay," he whispered, rubbing a hand over her back and tightening his arms around her. She turned her face into his shoulder and sobbed. 

"I can't," she cried. "I can't, I can't. I screw up everything, Krit, everything." 

"No, Syl." 

"Yes!" she sobbed. "Yes yes _yes."_

"Shshsh," he soothed her, pulling her closer, rocking her slightly in his arms. Slowly her tears faded to low hiccuping sobs. "Syl, what is it?" he asked after a long time, quiet. "You don't really mean you want to go back there, you can't." 

"That's not what I'm _saying,"_ she hissed. "There's a difference between wishing we'd never left and wanting to go back, Krit." She wiped angrily at her tears. "I don't want to go back there. I hated it, I hated Lydecker, everything you said. I hated all of it." She closed her eyes and more tears slipped down her cheeks. "I just want all of us back together again." There was a long silence. 

"Syl," he whispered finally. "I want to help you but I don't-" He broke off, paused, sighed. "Just... what do you want?" 

"I told you what I wanted," she said quietly. 

"I can't turn back time for you, Syl, and I wouldn't want to." His voice was soft. She felt a small smile against her hair. "If we hadn't left I never would have found you." 

"What?" She pulled back and stared at him. "You lost me for six years. If we'd stayed in Manticore that never would have happened." 

"No, I mean the real you." He smiled tenderly at her. "Syl, not 701. This- us." He squeezed her hand. "They never would have let us have this at Manticore." 

"Stop it," she hissed, pulling her hand away from him. The sudden pain in his eyes hurt her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, then started to slip out of bed. His hand clamped down on her shoulder, hard. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I have to get out of here." 

"No," he said, his voice firm and desperate all at once. "Stay here." 

"You can't make me," she bit out, trying to get away from him, but his grip just tightened. She met his eyes, her own flashing with anger. "You're hurting me, Krit." His hand left her shoulder and she stood up, but he quickly got to his own feet and placed himself between her and the door. 

"Don't go." 

"I have to," she whispered. 

"Don't run away again," he said, and then his voice dropped. "Please." He sounded so vulnerable, so alone, and it broke her heart. She reached for his hand. 

"I have to," she said again. "I tried to warn you about me, Krit. I told you not to fall in love with me." Tears slipped down her cheeks. 

  
"You _did all of this!" her younger, dream-self had sobbed during her last nightmare. "This is all your fault! You're supposed to be a soldier. Why the hell didn't you fight? Why didn't you save them? Why didn't you save_ me? _... You destroy everything you touch!" And it was true._

  
Syl pulled away from him and he just stood there, staring at her. 

"I screw up everything," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I know it's not fair but the sooner I leave the better it'll be for you." 

"Do you really believe that?" he asked in a tiny voice. She paused because he honestly sounded like he didn't know the answer, and slowly she raised her eyes to his. 

"Yes. It's true." 

"No it's not, Syl," he said softly. "You make my life better." 

"Don't be sappy," she whispered, turning away from him. "Not now." 

"I don't care if it's sappy," he said firmly, grabbing her hand. "It's the truth and when the hell else am I supposed to say it if you leave?" She looked at him again. "Why don't you let me decide what's best for me, Syl? Stop trying to protect me." 

"I'm supposed-" she began automatically, then broke off, blinked. Krit stared at her for a moment. 

"You don't have to," he said gently. "I'm not a child anymore." He tried to pull her into his arms but she resisted. "I don't need you to look after me, Syl, I need you to be with me." 

"You don't understand the way I am," she whispered sadly. "I wreck things, Krit. I wreck people." 

"Who have you wrecked?" 

"I wreck everything!" she yelled, tears threatening again. "Everything. Us, Caleb, Brin. When we were kids... Bram... I killed him... oh God, I wreck everything, I screw everything up... Why?" she whispered. "Why does it always have to be this way?" She dissolved into sobs. 

"Syl," he whispered, reaching for her. She let him pull her close, let him rub a hand soft over her back. "Brin wasn't your fault. We all ignored what was going on. And Bram was an accident, you _know_ that. They tried to get you to believe it was your fault, but it _wasn't."_ He backed her up to sit them on their bed as she cried into his shoulder, and ran a hand gently and slowly through her hair. "God Syl, and Caleb?" Krit pulled back and forced her to look at him. She forced her sobs back as she met his desperate eyes. "You _miscarried,"_ he said gently, a small shake in his voice. "That's nobody's _fault,_ it just happens sometimes." Her tears fell harder. 

"No!" she sobbed, trying to pull away; he held on to her shoulders more tightly. "I let him, I _let_ him hit me!" 

"Shshsh," he whispered, his voice pained; he wasn't letting her go. She fought him for a moment but then couldn't anymore, and collapsed into his arms, crying. "Syl," he breathed, rubbing her back, his voice pained. "And you haven't wrecked us." Slowly she quieted and forced herself to meet his eyes, full of pain and tenderness. "You can't," he said softly, a small, cautious smile playing on his lips. "You can't ever wreck us." She closed her eyes, leaned forward again to cry against him. 

"I'm so sorry," she managed. "I'm so sorry about Zane." Krit stiffened slightly but then he forced himself to relax, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. 

"I know," he breathed, then let out a soft sigh. "I shouldn't have made you stop seeing him." 

"It's okay," she whispered through her tears. "I probably would have said the same thing, if you'd..." She trailed off, both because she knew he never would have and because she was lying; she hated anything that kept them apart, had always loathed that part of Zack's rules when they'd lived together. Even Jondy, who she detested most of the time, who grated on her nerves and clashed with her personality, she didn't ever want to lose. She seriously thought she might go insane if she ever lost a member of her family again.   



	30. Chapter 29

"Your hair's getting long," Krit said, running a hand through it before sitting down on the sofa next to her, careful to keep a space of a couple of feet between them. She gazed at the spot sadly for a moment and then raised her eyes, forced a smile. 

"Yeah," she said. "I guess it is." 

"You want me to cut it?" he asked. They didn't go to hairdressers; it was too easy for the stylist to see their barcodes, too easy for their bubbly personalities to make them mention the interesting tattoo to others. Too much of a security risk. All Zack's points of course, and Syl suspected he or one of the others had had a close call once to inspire this particular rule. So, most of them had become good at cutting their own hair or, if they were lucky enough to be in contact with some of their siblings, the hair of other people. 

  
_"You sure you know what you're doing?" Syl asked, edgy. She actually heard a soft laugh from where Zack was standing behind her and she turned her head slightly to smirk at him. He put his hand against her face and turned her head back around gently. Syl obeyed, rolling her eyes and tapping her hands against her thighs impatiently. The baby kicked in response and she rubbed a hand over her stomach gently, soothing it. Zack's hands were careful against her hair, the snipping of the scissors precise and quick. _

"Almost done," he said when she started to squirm. 

"I'm hungry." 

"In a minute." 

"I want something weird," she warned him, sensing a craving coming on for a very strange combination of food. 

"Whatever you want," he said absently. "Just give me two more minutes." She watched the clock on the wall tick off the seconds, knowing Zack was always accurate on estimate times for task completion. Sure enough, at one minute fifty-eight seconds, he put the scissors on the counter and stepped back. "Done," he announced. Syl stood up with the awkwardness she was now getting used to in the later stages of her pregnancy, looked in the mirror over the sink. It was quite a decent haircut, and she smiled. 

"Thanks." 

"Sure," Zack said, cleaning up the hair. "Now what did you want to eat?" Syl turned back to him. 

"Chocolate ice cream," she said. "With mustard on it." Even hearing the names of the food out loud made her mouth water. She had to give Zack credit when he didn't even cringe. 

"Okay," he said. "But we don't have any mustard." As she felt mood swing-induced tears threatening he quickly added, "I'll run to the store," and she grinned happily. He shook his head at her, smiling, already reaching for his jacket. 

  
Syl looked at Krit and shrugged. 

"No, I think I'd like to keep it this way. I haven't had it long before, and I like the things Tinga does with her hair." That was actually half the reason; in the past with them hair-cutting had somehow, strangely, always led to sex, and she didn't want that, wasn't ready for it. Krit nodded and glanced away. There was an awkward silence as the two of them sat there, and then he smiled. 

"So," he said, attempting nonchalance. "Hungry?" 

"Not really." 

"Thirsty?" 

"I'm good, Krit." 

"Do you want to go out? Walk or something?" At her less than enthusiastic expression, he asked, "Want to spar? I feel like doing something." 

"I'd actually just like to read," she said, then added quickly, "But you can go out if you want. Don't let me stop you." After she'd said that he sat there for a few moments, quietly. 

"Okay," he said finally. He stood up, grabbed his jacket. The door slammed a little too loudly on his way out and Syl sighed. The words on the pages blurred together and she suddenly realized she didn't even know what she was reading anymore. The book dropped to the floor and she sat up, fidgeted. The apartment was quiet, still, almost claustrophobic. She looked around, saw the phone, grabbed for it, dialled. 

"Hello?" Zane answered on the third ring. 

"It's me." 

"That was fast," he remarked, a smile in his voice. "I thought you'd make it at least another week before calling again." 

"Things are tense here." 

"You've got to try, Syl," he said softly, and she felt annoyance rise in her. 

"Don't give me that," she hissed, then softened. "I need you not to be like Krit, okay?" 

"Okay, okay," he said. "I'm sorry. We'll talk about other stuff." 

"Are you alone?" 

"Surprisingly yes." 

"How come?" 

"I don't know. I just am." His words made her uncomfortable so she thought of another topic. 

"What's new with Jondy?" she asked. "Tinga? Have you heard from them? I called Tinga when I got here but I haven't really talked to either of them since we left." 

"They're good," Zane said. "Tinga enrolled Case in soccer, and she's all involved. She's a soccer mom. Can you imagine?" 

"Actually yes," Syl said, a smile on her lips. She could just see Tinga car-pooling, jumping up and down on the sidelines of the field, screaming for the victory of Case's team. 

"I guess we all have our own ways of dealing with what's happened," he said. "Tinga's keeping busy. Jondy's clinging to me." 

"So you're not alone," Syl said, her voice devious. She could almost hear him blush. 

"She doesn't count." 

"Wow, I'm sure she'd love to hear that." 

"You know what I mean." 

"Couch or bed?" 

"Bed..." 

"Hah!" 

"Not _with_ me," he hissed. "I'm on the couch." 

"Oh." She pouted. "How did you get stuck with that?" 

"I offered. I felt bad about her always crashing on the sofa. Besides, she's there like one tenth of the time anyway." 

"Yeah, well, that's sweet," she said. "Especially considering she doesn't sleep." She smiled to herself a little. "But she does like you Zane." He didn't say anything for a while. 

"Can we talk about something else?" he asked finally, his voice soft. She was surprised. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't..." 

"It's okay," he said softly. "I just-" He sighed. "To be honest I'm not really sure what to do with that. So I'd rather just not talk about it right now." 

"Is she there?" 

"Yeah. Reading. You want to talk to her?" 

"Sure." 

"Okay. But don't-" 

"Zane," she cut him off gently. "I won't. Don't worry." 

"Okay," he said again, and there was silence on the line for a few minutes. 

"Hey, Syl," Jondy chirped, almost as cheerful as usual. Syl braced herself. 

"Hey, Jondy." 

"What's up?" 

"Nothing, just wanted to say hi." 

"Yeah?" It depressed Syl that her sister sounded so surprised. 

"Tell me what you've been up to," she said, and listened while Jondy described the various things she and Zane were doing, the clubs they'd seen, the restaurants they'd eaten at, the people they'd met. She listed to her little sister's voice as it rose and fell in various stages of excitement, and remembered now that there was a quality to Jondy that was almost therapeutic sometimes. 

  
_"When you grow up, it goes away." They all listened en rapt to Ben; Syl never wondered how he knew the things he knew. He just_ did. _"That's why none of them have it, but we do." _

"Does it just fade into your skin?" Brin asked, and Ben nodded immediately. 

"Once you've proven yourself," he said. "Once you've shown that you're a good soldier." 

"Well how do you do that?" Mina asked, exchanging a look with Sade. Ben paused, frowned. 

"Just work hard," Zack cut in. "And listen to me." Syl looked at him and nodded gravely. Jondy's gaze found hers and their eyes locked. "Time for sleep," Zack announced, and their siblings turned and headed for their beds. Jondy went to the window and Zack frowned. 

"Come on," she called to Syl. Krit glanced up and started toward her. 

"Jondy," Zack said. 

"I can't sleep," she told him what he already knew. Krit joined her and Syl started for them, but Zack caught her hand. 

"Not too long," he said. She nodded, went to her brother and sister, helped them open the window so they could shimmy up the drain pipe, climb out onto the roof. Somehow, together without any need for communication about it, they all stayed away from the Blue Lady's altar. This wasn't a ceremony, they just wanted to sit on the High Place and look at the stars. 

"Do you really think Ben's right?" Syl asked after a long time of sitting on the edge of the roof, unafraid of the three-storey height because she knew she could land on her feet. Krit and Jondy turned to her and she continued, "About the marks. Do you really think they'll go away?" 

"Maybe," Krit said. Jondy reached up and touched her fingers lightly against Syl's barcode, tickling, causing her half-inch of blonde hair to prickle as her scalp shivered. 

"I hope not," Jondy said softly, withdrawing her hand. Krit and Syl exchanged a look, glanced at her. 

"What?" they asked in unison. Jondy stood up, smiled down at them. 

"It's what makes us a family," she said, and turned away, went back down to the barracks. Krit and Syl sat and thought about that for a while, realized she might be right, because the adults didn't seem to have the same close structure as they did. The only difference between them and the adults that had never changed their whole lives was that mark on the back of their necks, and the adults' lack of it. 

"Syl?" Krit whispered, cuddling up close to her side. "I'm cold." She slipped an arm around his shoulders, squeezed, knowing they were dressed poorly for the late winter weather, that the ties keeping their night attire on were no protection against the cold. 

"Do you want to go back in?" she asked, but he shook his head. 

"Look at the stars," he said, his eyes shining as he gazed up at the sky. She followed his line of sight and looked at them, the way they gleamed and sparkled. "How many are there, Syl?" 

"I don't know," she said. "Lots." 

"Do you think anyone's ever counted them?" 

"Maybe. It would be hard." 

"Syl?" he asked quietly after a short silence. 

"Hmm?" 

"I don't want to go in," he whispered, leaning his head soft against her shoulder. "I don't want to go in for a long time." 

"Me neither," she said, turning to smile at him, running a hand over his head, pulling him closer. They looked up and watched the stars gleaming and growing brighter as the sky darkened more and more. 

  
"Syl?" 

"Huh?" 

"You spaced out there for a minute," Jondy said. 

"Oh, sorry." She smiled. "What were you saying?" 

"It's okay." 

"No, I was interested, really. Go on." 

"Hey, Syl?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm really glad you wanted to talk to me." 

"I know," Syl said, her voice soft. "I'm sorry I don't do it more often." 

"I bug you." 

"It's not that, it's just-" 

"It is that," Jondy cut her off, low but calm. "You're too sad all the time to put up with me." Syl said nothing for a moment. 

"Is that what you think?" 

"It's true." 

"Tell me." 

"Why? You don't want to hear it." 

"I do," Syl said honestly, softly. "I really do." Her sister said nothing for a long time, then finally spoke. 

"The way you treated Krit after Brin disappeared, after Zack was gone... that was horrible, Syl." Her voice was determined. "You left him when he needed you most." 

"I-" 

"Don't try to justify it." Syl realized now that the soft quality to Jondy's voice was more anger than gentleness, but in a calm way that only she could pull off. "It's wrong. It's wrong to treat him that way when he's feeling just like all of us, like his heart's been torn out." Syl sighed a little. 

"Jondy, you don't understand." 

"We lost a brother too, Syl. Maybe you were closer to him than the rest of us, but we all loved him and we all needed him." 

"This was a bad idea," she said, but her sister kept on. 

"And we loved Brin, too." 

"Jondy, stop it." 

"You know Zack had to do this. It doesn't mean that Krit would." When she said that Syl couldn't help but rebel against the words, try to explain. 

"You don't _know_ that. You can't _say_ that." 

"Sure I can," Jondy said gently, her voice full of pain. "You're who Krit loves, right here. And Max is who Zack loves. He had to do what he did. The same thing isn't going to happen with you guys." Syl said nothing for a long time. 

"Zack... loves..." She stopped talking and heard Jondy's small sigh. 

"He loves her," she said softly. "He does, and not the same way it is with any of us. He's in love with her." Weariness and resignation settled over Syl because she knew Jondy was right, couldn't deny it, wanted to. "Krit won't leave you," Jondy continued. Syl was silent again; how did Jondy know that she'd left Krit so he couldn't leave her first? Was she that obvious? 

"You don't understand," Syl said again. "It's not as simple as you make it sound." She heaved a sigh. "What about when I go into heat? What happens when we have a baby and Lydecker finds out because one of us slips up?" 

"Tinga's doing fine." 

"One day we're going to lose her, too, Jondy, and I don't want-" Syl broke off; it was too painful to keep speaking and she was shocked at what she'd just said. 

"What, you don't want that to that happen with Krit, so instead you're going to make sure you're not close to him anymore, so if he does get caught it won't matter?" 

"Of course it would _matter,"_ Syl hissed angrily. 

"Listen to me. You're an idiot, Syl. Snap out of it. Stop being so selfish." 

"You have no idea-" 

"That your life sucks? What, you had a bad foster home, you've been through some rough times? Well newsflash for you, Syl, we _all_ have. The highlight of my life was one month in the tenth grade and only because Zack screwed up and Zane ended up in the same high school as me. Do you get that? The _highlight of my life_ was one month three years ago. I've been through some pretty bad crap, okay? You have no idea, alright? If I had someone like Krit-" She sucked her breath in, continued, "Let's just say I wouldn't throw it away this time. I'm giving you some sisterly advice here." Her voice was getting increasingly angry. "Listen or not, I don't care. Just stop moping around feeling sorry for yourself when we all miss Brin and we all love Zack and we'd kill for what you and Krit have." 

It took a moment for Syl to register that she'd been hung up on, to realize that Jondy had been crying, at least at that last bit, and that she herself was crying now. She put down the phone, sat in the silent apartment, waited for her tears to stop. Then she grabbed her jacket and went after Krit.   



	31. Chapter 30

Syl drove to the nearest area of town that had high buildings and scanned the skyline for Krit's figure. They all avoided churches like the plague, all except Ben, so she stuck to offices and schools. It took only a half hour before she caught sight of him, sitting on top of a high school. She grabbed the nearest ledge and started climbing, alternating between pipes, windowsills, and crevices to get to the top. 

"Hey," she said when she'd reached him, sitting down close beside him. He turned to her slowly, looking pleased to see her but surprised at how near she was sitting. 

"Hey." 

"The stars are nice," she remarked. He glanced at her and she wondered if he remembered that night at Manticore, realized that of course he did, they remembered every day of their lives. She sighed. 

"They're nice," came his belated agreement. There was a long silence before she said anything. 

"Krit," she said softly. "Let's go home." He shook his head. 

"I don't like it there right now," she said gently. "I'm going to stay out here for a while, maybe-" 

"No." She put a hand on his arm. "Together." Slowly his eyes raised to hers. 

"I thought-" 

"Never mind about before," she said softly. "I don't want to talk about that. I don't want to fight. Let's just go now." It took a long time for Krit to nod, but he did, stood up. They went back to the car and climbed in, drove in silence back to their building. Syl thought about what she was doing; she intended to get home, climb into bed with Krit, and do what she hadn't wanted to do since Brin and Zack disappeared. But she didn't really _want_ to now either; she wanted to try to make things better, but she didn't want to actually do _this._ But she would; she had to. She had to let him know that she still loved him, even if the thought of doing anything made her want to run, or at least vomit. 

They parked the car and rode the elevator upstairs, went into the apartment and walked silently back to the bedroom they used to share. It was all very odd, and they were both somewhat uncomfortable, but that didn't stop them from sitting down on the bed together, or stop Krit from stroking a hand down her cheek and leaning forward to kiss her softly. Her lips moved against his lightly, cautiously, and she felt him touch his fingers against her barcode before he deepened the kiss, his hands trailing down to her shoulders, slipping off her jacket before pulling at the hem of her t-shirt. Syl pulled her face back slightly and raised her arms, let him pull her top off, let him unhook her bra and slip it over her shoulders. He pulled her close again and kissed her deeply, his hands trailing hot over her skin. She jerked away suddenly and his eyes flew open. 

"Sorry," she whispered, kissing him again. He pulled back. 

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice hurt. She swallowed hard and opened her mouth to try and explain, decided against it. She was sure now, she didn't want this, but she wasn't going to tell him that, wasn't going to hurt him anymore. Syl flattened a hand against his chest and forced a small smiled, gently pushing him back on the mattress. His hands slipped around her back as she leaned over him, kissing him again, and after a few moments the tenseness slowly left him and he squeezed her shoulders, turned them over. She felt momentary fear as she watched his eyes darken above her, but clenched her fists in the blankets so he couldn't see and waited for him to pull off his shirt, reminding herself that this was _Krit,_ so it was okay. He lowered his head to nip his way down her throat, brushing his lips over her collar bones as he slipped off the rest of his clothing and reached down for the button of her jeans. Syl's whole body stiffened as she felt the heat of him through the denim and he frowned, paused. 

"What is it?" he whispered. "Syl? What's wrong?" He started to pull away but her hands gripped his shoulders, stopped him from moving. She wanted him to know she still loved him; he _needed_ that. She just had to get herself under control, and she could make it through this. 

"It's alright," she said, slipping out of her clothes for him and pulling him closer. She hooked a foot over one of his calves and kissed him again, and it didn't take long for him to get back into it. When she felt him moving into her, his hands roving over her body and his lips soft against her face, whispering half-words, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and turned her head into his neck so he wouldn't see. 

"Syl," he said softly, his eyes half-closed as he turned her head to find her lips, kissed her long and deep as he moved. "I missed you. I love you." 

"I love you too," she murmured, and clutched his shoulders, trying not to feel too much. "Hurry, Krit," she whispered, hoping he'd take her request as one of passion. He smiled down at her. 

Suddenly Syl's eyes snapped open. 

  
_"Shut up!" her foster uncle yelled, slapping her face as he moved on top of her. She felt a bruise blooming over her cheek and she stopped sobbing, bit her lip, drawing blood that trickled down toward her chin. Her small hands dug into the mattress; she tried not to cry, not to scream, not to make it any worse on herself than it had to be._

  
She tried not to gasp, tried to shake it away. Above her Krit was whispering to her softly. Her body tensed again. 

  
_His sweaty fingers grabbed her blonde hair painfully, pulling on it as he moaned above her, his body pressing her down into the mattress, smothering her, slipping and sliding against her. "You like that?" he grunted as silent tears rolled down her face. His gravelly voice made her even more nauseous than she already was and then he grabbed her small chest in his meaty hands, squeezed painfully. "Yeah, you do, you tight little slut," he panted as she cried without sound. "Yeah, you do."_

  
"Oh God," she whispered, tears threatening. "Oh God, oh God." Krit's lips brushed against her cheek, her forehead. "Oh God," she bit out again, trying not to cry, trying to lie still. 

"Syl," he breathed, his lips closing over hers for a deep kiss. She felt bile rising in her throat but fought it back, forced herself not to do anything but lie there. 

  
_She could feel herself bleeding, could feel herself tearing inside as he moved. Her hands stung from where her nails were digging into her palms, but that pain was a welcome distraction from the rest of what was going on. She squeezed her eyes shut. He was making little sounds, grunts and moans and curses, and her body began trembling as a seizure started coming on, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt a bead of cold sweat slip down her lower back and she kept shaking, her body's convulsions coming stronger. A knock came at the door and Syl's eyes snapped open. She saw the doorknob turning. _

"No!" she screamed, tearing at her foster uncle's shoulders, gouging out tracks of skin with her long nails. He swore and smacked her hard across the face so she saw stars, but she fought to stay conscious, even though her teeth were now chattering from the seizure and the shaking was making her wounds open even more. 

"Syl?" The young voice that came through the door was cautious. "Uncle John?" 

"Jared!" Syl cried. "Get back in the living room! Now!" 

"But-" 

"Now!" _she yelled. _

"I need to ask Uncle John something," he said, the doorknob turning again. "It's locked." Syl's attention snapped to her foster uncle and she saw anger flash through his eyes at being interrupted. He looked like he was ready to get up, pull the door open, and smack the boy. Syl couldn't let her foster brother see her like this, couldn't let him get hurt. She had to protect _him. _

"Jared, get downstairs right now!" she yelled. "Listen to me, please!" 

_"Shut up!" John yelled, smacking her hard again. She coughed and brought up blood, but she didn't hear Jared trying to get into the room again so she didn't care about the tooth that had come loose in her mouth. "Damned kid," he hissed, and then grabbed her and shoved her into a position that was better for him. He started moving again and the pain came back, stronger. She cried out and her body was shaking even harder now; he slapped her again. _

"You slut," he hissed into her ear, grunting as he moved faster, tearing at her. "Look what you make me do." Syl's eyes fluttered closed and then something ripped inside her and she felt a wave of blood, felt the pain cut through her whole body. She shuddered from her seizure and then his mouth closed over hers, but she needed to breathe! She tried to turn her face away but his fist came up, smacked against her head. Lights danced in her eyes and she nearly blacked out, choking on her own blood. 

  
Syl screamed, loud, and Krit's face jerked back from hers, his eyes wide, alarm taking over the desire in his gaze as he froze. 

"What?" he gasped, taking in the tears on her cheeks, her body that wasn't trembling from passion. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, searching for something that would explain how he could have done that and not known it. She squeezed her eyes shut, sending more tears cascading down her face, and shook her head, gritting her teeth. 

"Get off me," she whispered, clenching her fists. "Please, please. Oh God, Krit, get off me, get off me." 

"Syl-" 

_"Please!"_

"Okay, okay," he said quickly, gently, and rolled away from her, making her gasp a little with relief. She squeezed her eyes shut and cried softly, shaking; a moment later there was a hand on her shoulder. 

"Don't," she sobbed, twisting away from him. "Don't touch me, please. Please, please don't touch me. Oh God, God." She was trying to calm herself down because Krit had never witnessed one of her flashbacks, _never,_ and this was going to lead to so many questions she didn't want to deal with. But his hand against her shoulder had made her skin crawl, and she couldn't stop the tears from falling even harder. 

"Syl, what's going on?" He sounded terrified. When she didn't answer he added desperately, "Tell me!" 

"Tryptophan," she whispered, the slight trembling of her body increasing to strong convulsions at an alarming rate. "I need tryptophan." 

"Syl-" 

"Please," she whispered. He swallowed hard, nodded. 

"Okay," he said. "Okay, I'll be right back." He slipped out of bed, hurried from the room, returning almost immediately with the bottle of pills, shaking a few into her hand and giving her a glass of milk. He rubbed his palm over her back but she jerked away, sliding to the other side of the bed where he couldn't reach her. 

"Syl," he whispered. "What the hell is going on? What did I-" 

"Nothing," she cut him off quickly, squeezing her eyes shut as her body shook. "It' just... I'm not... I can't..." More tears slipped down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm so sorry." 

"Are you hurt?" he asked after a moment. She shook her head. "Syl," he said softly, his voice pained. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?" She closed her eyes. 

"I've hurt you enough," she whispered. Krit stood up. He ran his fingers through his hair. He sat down again, reached out, paused. 

"Can I hold your hand?" Her brows raised at his soft question and then she nodded; Krit entwined their fingers and she felt fresh tears stinging her eyes. They sat in silence for several minutes until her body slowly stopped shaking. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, exhausted from the seizure and crying. His other hand brushed lightly against her face, stroked tentatively down her cheek. 

"Syl," he said quietly. "I want to help you." She stiffened and shrugged away from his touch. 

"You can't," she said shortly. "This is just how I am." He didn't say anything for a long time, and finally he pulled the blankets back and slipped into bed beside her, reached out. She shied away from him and shook her head; Krit sighed and leaned over the edge of the bed, searched around on the floor. He tossed her clothes to her and she pulled on her shirt, watched him slip into his boxers. She managed a weak smile and they both sat there, uncomfortable. 

"Krit..." Syl bit her lip. She felt his dark eyes on her and forced herself to go on, "Would it be... could I... could I phone Zane?" Silence, for a long time. 

"It's late." She couldn't read his tone of voice. 

"I don't think he would mind," she whispered. Krit stared at her for a long time until she was sure he was going to say no, get angry. 

"Would it make you feel better?" he asked, his voice so soft it took her almost a full minute to convince herself that he'd actually said it. She started crying and he ran a hand through his hair. "Call him," he said finally. "Go ahead Syl, call him." Syl stared at him, trying to read his face for signs of a joke, but he didn't look like he was joking. 

"Thank you," she whispered, and his nod was sad, pained. He reached for the phone on the bedside table and handed it to her, averted his gaze as she dialled. The look in his eyes hurt her, but she put the phone to her ear and let it ring. 

"Heya, Zane's place," Jondy answered cheerfully. 

"Is he asleep?" Syl asked. 

"What do you think?" her sister answered, humour touching her voice. "It's almost three in the morning." 

"How are you, Jondy?" 

"Me?" 

"God, please don't sound so surprised. It's depressing." 

"I just thought, with before..." Jondy trailed off and Syl was quiet for several moments. 

"I don't really want to get into that," she said finally. 

"I meant what I said." 

"I know," Syl said. She paused. "Jondy," she whispered. "I'm not angry at you. Tell me how you are." 

"I'm good," Jondy answered after a moment. "I'm doing okay. How are you?" 

"Alright..." 

"Syl," she said gently. "I can wake him up." 

"Would you?" 

"Of course. Just hold on a sec." 

"Thanks, Jondy." Syl waited, glancing at Krit, who'd gotten back into bed and turned away from her. She started to reach out a hand to stroke it through his hair, but then she recognized the tenseness in his shoulders and stopped herself. 

"Hello?" Zane's sleepy voice came a moment later. "Syl?" 

"Hey, Zane," she whispered, happiness filling her voice. She felt Krit tense further and frowned. 

"How are you?" 

"Okay." 

"You phoned at three in the morning because you're okay?" he asked gently. Syl tried not to cry. What could she say with Krit right there? 

"Just... Just tell me what you did today, alright?" she whispered. Zane let out a small sigh before he started talking about what he and Jondy were up to, the things they'd done that day. Listening to his gentle voice as it rose and fell was comforting to Syl, calming, soothing on her nerves. 

"Syl," Zane said softly, and she realized he'd stopped talking. "Are you okay?" he asked again. 

"I guess I should let you go," she whispered, not wanting to. She heard his breath release. 

"Yeah, I guess. I've got work tomorrow, so..." 

"I'm sorry, Zane." 

"Don't," he said immediately. "I'm glad you called." 

"Really?" 

"I love you, Syl," he said softly. Her eyes flew to Krit but she wasn't sure if he was asleep, doubted it. 

"Me too," she answered. "Bye, Zane," she added. She jumped a little as Krit sat up abruptly, turning toward her. 

"Let me talk to him," he said. 

"No." The word came out without her really thinking about it. Krit looked angry for a moment, ran a hand through his hair. Then he softened. 

"I'll be nice," he promised. Was that a tiny smile on his lips? She passed the phone over wordlessly. "Hey, Zane," he said. "Yeah, you too. Yeah." Syl sat back in the bed, watched him talk softly with Zane, tears in her eyes. Gradually his voice started to get less and less guarded, and at one point he even laughed a little. Then he glanced at the clock. "Yeah," he said. "It's pretty late. I guess I should get going soon." His smile faded and there was a long, long silence; Syl tensed for the worst, but finally Krit looked down at his hands, opened his mouth, closed it. He clenched a fist, closed his eyes, and said, barely above a whisper, "I love you too." Then the phone was back on its cradle and it took him a long time to look at her. "I want to sleep," he said softly. "I just... I really want to sleep." He reached for his blanket, pulled it toward him. "You can stay if you want to, Syl. Or you can go." He swallowed. "If you want to." 

"I'll stay," she whispered, slipping under the blankets. She reached for his hand and found it, squeezed. Krit turned and his lips brushed against her forehead. She hugged him close, gave a little sigh. 

"Syl?" he whispered. 

"Hmm?" 

"You're due." 

"What?" 

"You're due for a cycle soon, aren't you?" he said softly, and she tensed. 

"I forgot about that..." 

"What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice gentle. She swallowed. 

"I don't know." 

"We'll have to find a place for you to go. Before it comes on. You'll have to leave." He sounded so calm. 

"I'm sorry, Krit," she whispered. He gave her a squeeze. 

"Don't," he said. "It's okay." There was a short silence and then he decided, "You can go to Jondy's." He glanced away. "There isn't anyone else." 

"I could stay," she said, her voice barely more than breath. "I'd like it if I was in heat. I'd want it, Krit." He cringed. 

"I don't want to see that look on your face again when you wake up." Guilty tears stung her eyes at his words and she turned her face into his chest, cried. He tightened his arms around her. "Sleep," he murmured. "It's okay. Just sleep." 

"I love you," she said, her voice soft. He nodded against the top of her head, kissed her. 

"I love you too," he whispered, and she let out one last shuddering breath before she closed her eyes and snuggled closer, settling into his warm embrace of safety and love. Though she drifted off, she sensed that he was awake for a long time afterward, his body tense with stress.   



	32. Chapter 31

Syl woke up with incredible guilt. 

How could she have done that to him? How could her mind have betrayed her by flashing back to her trauma when she was with Krit, whom she loved... and she'd screamed, and how could he not think he'd done something, that it was his fault? She rolled over to look at him, but the pillow was all that laid beside her. Syl stood up slowly, took her time dressing before padding into the living room. She scanned the room for Krit but he was nowhere in sight. Before she could become too alarmed, the front door opened. 

"You're awake," he remarked. "Good. Help me with these." She walked over with a questioning look on her face, taking the heavy box from his hands and putting it on the kitchen counter. There were other boxes, and she helped him cart those in as well. 

"What is all this?" she asked once the door had been closed and he was inside. Krit opened the first box; inside lay a beautiful variety of rifles, grenades, explosives, handguns, and even a semi-automatic. Syl's eyebrows lifted. "What's all this for?" she asked, already digging in. Like Zane, she loved weapons, but unlike Zane, it wasn't about how they worked but how they looked, what they could do, that made her enjoy them so much. She used to collect them years before, until Zack had made her stop because it made her look like a very conspicuous teenager. But she'd always had an eye for good weaponry, and the collection Krit had brought was the best. 

"A rainy day," he answered her question, smiling at her. She tore her eyes away from the endless possibilities within the box and touched his arm. 

"You don't have to buy me back," she said softly. He surprised her by jerking away. 

"I'm not." His voice was almost flat. "I'm just getting a few things we don't have, stuff we've both wanted for a while." Syl hadn't heard him talk about weapons once since they'd started living together, he much preferred hand-to-hand combat, but she said nothing, just nodded. She reached out for the semi-automatic, held it in her hands, recognized the strong make and excellent craftsmanship immediately, the weight of it familiar in her hands. 

"This is Israeli," she remarked, impressed. 

"Your favourite," he agreed, smiling a little. She nodded. 

"They make the best," she said. "Must have been expensive." Krit shrugged. 

"I had some extra cash lying around." 

"What's the rest?" she asked, pulling open the other boxes. Inside was practically everything she'd ever mentioned wanting or needing since they'd begun living together. 

"You going somewhere?" she joked, and he gave her a small smile, shaking his head and falling into the sofa. For some reason that little smile scared her. Syl abandoned the weapons for the time being and walked over, dropped down beside him. 

"I'm sorry about-" she began in a whisper, but the look in his eyes stopped her. 

"Don't," he said, almost angry. "Just don't." He stood up abruptly, left the room. She sat there for a long time, staring at her hands through the tears that were threatening. 

"Okay," she whispered to the air. 

* * *

Work the next day was busy, so they didn't have much time to talk, and by the time their shift was nearly over Syl had a well-rehearsed speech to give him about what was wrong with her, leaving out most of the select details. She was sure with a little coaxing Krit would accept a sudden memory of psy-ops as a plausible reason for her nervous breakdown two nights before. 

"About ready to go?" she asked when he walked over to the bar five minutes before their shift ended; Krit smiled at her. 

"I feel like walking, actually," he said. "I'll be home in about an hour or so. But you go ahead. Take the car home." Syl blinked at him, surprised. 

"You're going to leave me," she said, amazed by her calm voice. "I know you." Krit's smile faded and he ran a hand through his hair, averted his eyes. 

"I can't do this anymore," he said, barely above a whisper. "It's hurting both of us too much." Tears blurred her vision but she forced a nod. 

"I'm sorry," she breathed. 

"Don't," he said, soft but firm. "That's why I didn't want to- I don't want you to think it's your fault..." 

"What the hell else am I supposed to think?" she asked bitterly, clenching a fist. "It is my fault." 

"I..." He trailed off helplessly and she opened her mouth to say more, but a call from one of the customers cut her off. 

"Hey! Can I get some beer down here? And change the channel on the tv!" 

"Just a minute!" Syl called angrily over her shoulder. She looked at Krit, tried to think of something to say, something that could make this better. She frowned. "What?" she asked when she saw that he wasn't even looking at her anymore. His eyes were glued to a spot behind her, wide and almost terrified. She turned slowly. 

"What the hell?" the same customer yelled. "Hey," he called to her. "There's something wrong with the tv. It's the same thing on every channel!" Syl ignored him, too busy trying to get her mind around what she was seeing, wondering if she was hallucinating, if she'd gone crazy. She forced herself to tune in to the television. 

"...a message for those known as X5," it said in a garbly, computer-altered voice. Krit's hand slipped over her shoulder and squeezed until she was sure she'd have a bruise, angry and black, but she didn't care. Barcodes were scrolling across the screen. Jondy's, Tinga's... what was the voice saying? Compromised? Syl froze as the next two barcodes scrolled across the screen: Krit's and Zane's. 

"I repeat," the message continued. "Your locations have been compromised. You know what to do. This message will repeat every hour on the hour until each of you has checked in." It started to go back to the beginning again, and then everything happened in slow motion. 

"Hey, lady!" the noisy customer yelled. "What the hell is wrong with this television? Are you going to just stand there or do I have to call your boss, huh?" 

"Come on, Syl," Krit said, clamping his hand around hers tightly, as though Lydecker might walk in this second, as though he might just burst in right now and try to pull her away. They hurried past the shouted protests of customers and the questioning looks of the other staff members and ran flat-out for their SUV once they were outside. 

"Where are we going?" Krit asked, starting the engine. Syl tried to think. 

"Go north," she said. "Right through Wyoming, they'll never think of that. We'll stop somewhere once it's safe." Krit nodded, pulled the car out and tore down the street. Syl searched for her cell phone and found it, held it in her hands for a few moments. She turned slowly to him. 

"Does this mean Zack..." She trailed off and Krit swallowed. 

"I don't know," he said, then cursed, slammed his hands against the steering wheel, drove faster. 

"Krit," she said gently, buckling her seatbelt. "Don't speed. We don't want to look conspicuous." He slowed instantly and sat back in the seat. 

"How could they know?" he whispered. "How was I compromised?" 

"It doesn't matter," she said, watching him check the rear-view mirror every few seconds to see if they were being followed. Syl flipped her cell phone open and dialled the contact number, waited for Zack's message to play. 

"It's Syl," she said. "Krit and I are on the move. We're heading up north. I'll check in again later when we stop. Call me, Zack." She left her number, hung up, and took a deep breath that didn't calm her at all. 

  
Krit halted the car on an open stretch of highway about ten kilometres from Cheyenne. Syl glanced behind them, fear in her heart, but she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary as she scanned the roadside treeline and the other cars. 

"Why are we-" She stopped abruptly. "Oh no," she whispered as she saw Krit's hands trembling. "No, not now." Krit didn't get seizures as often as she did, but when he did get them they were bad, and they came on fast and hard. No wonder he'd stopped the car so suddenly. Syl turned into the backseat but there was nothing; they had nothing with them because they hadn't gone back to the house. Lydecker could have already been there. They'd just jumped in the car and drove. _Oh God..._

"Syl," Krit whispered, gritting his teeth as the shakes quickly got stronger, unable to stop a small grunt of pain from escaping his lips. Before long he wouldn't be able to sit up, and just a little longer would mean he'd have to really work at staying conscious. Syl pulled the glove compartment open, searched through the drawer that pulled out of the passenger's seat. She found it, a small bottle they'd decided to start keeping in the car for emergencies almost a year ago. There was one pill inside. One. She held it up. 

"That's all there is." Krit took it, but she knew it would do almost nothing. He needed at least half a dozen. Syl slid out of the car, hurried around to the driver's side and opened the door, catching his near-dead weight as he almost fell onto the street. "Help me, Krit," she whispered, shoving him toward the other seat. "Please, please." He grabbed the steering wheel, used it as leverage to get over into the passenger side, then collapsed from exhaustion against the window. Syl took off her jacket and laid it over him, started the engine and tore back onto the freeway. She could be in the city in twenty minutes, and then it would take another five at least to find somewhere to steal the pills. About ten to get them, assuming she didn't get caught. Syl glanced at Krit, his eyes closed, the convulsions wracking his body; she wouldn't get caught. Under normal circumstances in this situation, Syl would go to a hospital; it would be worth the risk, and they could just get the medication and leave before anyone starting asking too many questions. 

But not now. Not with Lydecker after them. It was risky to even go near a city, but they had to. 

When Syl entered Cheyenne Krit's whole body was convulsing violently, he was unconscious, and he'd broken into a cold sweat. She looked at him and suddenly she realized she didn't know if he was going to make it. She was at least twenty-five minutes away from having the pills in her hand, and that was _if_ she remembered this city well enough to find the hospital. She hadn't exactly spent a lot of time in Wyoming after the escape, what with Zack having considered the entire state and most surrounding areas off-limits when they were kids. 

Syl suddenly swerved the car, tires squealing, into the parking lot of a small corner grocery store. She jumped out barely before the SUV had hit a complete stop and ran in, sprinting so fast to the freezer section that she knocked over several displays. 

"Hey!" the clerk yelled as Syl gathered a few milk cartons and made her way to the till. She dropped the milk onto the counter, reached into her coat and drew out a few hundred dollars, tossed it at him. 

"Sorry about the mess," she said as she grabbed the cartons again, heading for the door. "Keep the change." The man brightened significantly as he looked at the money. 

"Have a nice day!" he called after her. She ignored him, running to her car and climbing in, noticing with a sinking heart that Krit already looked much worse. 

"We don't have time to get you tryptophan," she murmured to his unconscious face, pulling him into a sitting position, cradling him in her arms as his body shook and shuddered. "But we've got lots of milk." She opened his mouth, hoping that this would work because if it didn't there would be no time left for anything else. Gingerly, she let a small amount of milk pass through his lips, and then she rubbed his throat, willing him to swallow. It took a moment, but he did. Syl breathed a shaky sigh of relief and repeated the process. Again he swallowed, but this time he coughed; she tensed, fear pulling at her heart, but the milk stayed down. Then he stopped breathing. 

"Oh God." Before she could even get through the first part of CPR, he suddenly inhaled, loudly, dissolving into more coughs. His breath continued coming, but it was much weaker, laboured. Syl tried not to panic, knowing his airway was closing from the seizure, and she had to get at least half this milk into him before that happened. "Hang on," she whispered, struggling another mouthful down his throat. "Please, please hang on." 

After forty minutes and one and a half cartons of milk, Krit's eyes opened, dazed and exhausted. He coughed, his body still trembling but getting better now instead of worse. It took him a few moments to find her eyes, but he did, looked at her. He glanced at the carton in her hands and managed a tiny smile. 

"More please," he whispered. Syl laughed, threw her arms around his neck, cried with relief. Krit reached up weakly to squeeze her shoulder and managed, after a few tries, to sit up. He took the milk carton from her and tipped it, taking huge gulps until it was empty. Finally he let it drop into the back seat and shivered once or twice again, hands trembling, before his body pitched once more and then slowly stopped shaking. Krit settled into his seat, exhausted, and Syl wished they could find somewhere to go and just crash, because as soon as the adrenaline of fear left her body she was absolutely ready to fall into bed and sleep soundly for a week. 

"We have to keep moving," she said, starting the car again. Krit nodded, closed his eyes for a long time, opened them. 

"Watch the rear view mirror," he whispered. 

"I know." 

"If you see anyone following us-" 

"Krit, I _know."_ She softened, reached over to run a hand through his dark hair. "Sleep now." 

"Sorry," he whispered. "I worry about you." 

"I worry about you too, baby brother," she murmured. He gazed at her for a moment; he didn't look surprised, even though she hadn't called him that in almost two years and most would have thought it a very odd thing to say now. Krit let out a small sigh, closed his eyes. He was asleep within minutes.   



	33. Chapter 32

"We need a room," Syl said to the clerk of a small motel they stopped at when the sun was just rising over Montana. "Two beds." She felt Krit's eyes on her but he said nothing, and then the keys were being handed to her and she headed for the room, trying not to fall over before she got there. Inside were a set of twin beds, a chair, a television, and a bathroom. Syl stumbled into the nearest bed and flopped onto it, asleep almost immediately. 

  
They moved motels every day; on the third night when she was trying to fall asleep she said to him in a whisper, "You were going to leave before." She tried to keep the tears out of her voice. "If you're still planning to, please do it when I'm awake." She heard him sigh from the other bed. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Syl." 

"Why not?" she asked after a long time. His shoulders tensed up. 

"I don't think I need to answer that." Then she heard him roll over, and she closed her eyes to try and get to sleep. 

  
Each day Syl checked in with a new number for Zack to call, having discarded her cell phone because it was a tactical risk. After a week, he still hadn't phoned. 

"I'm so worried," Syl said, dropping into the sofa where Krit was reading. He raised his eyes to her and nodded. They'd hugged a few times, little friendly squeezes, but other than that they hadn't touched each other since the night Syl had her terrifying flashback. 

"He'll call," Krit assured her. She gazed at him and wondered how he could always be so calm. 

"What if it wasn't even Zack?" she asked softly. "What if one of the others broadcast that message?" He sighed. 

"I don't know." His voice was gentle and he took her hand, squeezed. "But I think more than likely it was him, Syl." She managed a small smile. 

"Thanks, Krit," she whispered. He shrugged, smiled, stood up. 

"I'm going to take a shower." 

"Okay," she said, getting to her own feet. "I'm going to get us something to eat." Krit frowned and touched her arm. 

"Wait till I'm out," he said. She shot him a questioning look but nodded; he smiled, left the room. She heard the water turn on and fidgeted, bored. She wanted to get outside in the cool air. If she was fast, she'd be back before he was out, and he could say whatever he wanted to say to her then. Syl turned and left the motel, heading for the grocery store across the street. She pushed through the door and a bell rang announcing her presence. 

"Can I help you?" the clerk asked, a young man about twenty-five years old with great hair and a nice smile. Syl walked over to him and smiled, looking up at him through slightly lowered lashes. 

"I'm hungry," she said with a slight smirk in her voice. The man grinned and leaned toward her. 

"Then you've come to the right place," he said softly. She felt his hand on hers and glanced down, feeling a shiver run down her spine at the contact of his cool skin on hers. 

"It's hot in here," she whispered, raising her gaze slowly to his. His green eyes were slightly darkened and she felt her heart quicken as she looked at him. 

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice rumbling slightly. "It is hot." He came around the counter, stopping in front of her. His palms stroked rough over her forearms and she raised her hands to his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair. 

"What's your name?" she whispered, leaning in so their noses almost touched. He smiled and met her eyes, his breath warm and ticklish against her face. 

"Tony," he breathed, touching his lips against hers. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, his tongue meeting hers as he deepened the kiss. She was turned and felt her back press up against the grocer's counter, felt his body both soft and hard against hers. She could feel the heat through his clothes; her hands pulled at the hem of his shirt. Somewhere, she heard a bell ring. 

"Syl!" Krit's sharp voice came from the door, alarmed. Tony pulled his lips away from hers suddenly, leaving them both breathing hard, and his eyes flew between her and Krit, who was charging over. He pulled Tony off her roughly and grabbed her arm. After she was hauled from the grocery store, enough sense returned to her to make her nauseous. 

"Oh God," she whispered. She didn't want this, not with Tony or with Krit or with anyone else. But what was she going to do? Now that she and Krit as well as Tinga and Jondy had gone on the run, none of her sisters were available to hold her down until it passed. She felt like crying and struggled against Krit's tight grip, staring at the ground, clenching a fist against the desire to throw herself at him. He hauled her inside the motel and upstairs, into their room, where he slammed and locked the door, releasing her and shoving her away from him toward the opposite wall. 

"Cold shower," he said, not looking at her. "Now, Syl." She nodded, realizing that must have been what he'd taken before; she wanted to ask why he hadn't said anything, but she supposed he'd been concentrating most of his energy on trying to get the hell away from her. And besides, if he had told her, she might have just attacked him and that would have been the end of them for sure. In a huge feat of self-control she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, shedding her clothes and turning the water on icy-cold. It cooled her burning skin and she stood under it for almost an hour before she stepped out, getting dressed again, making a half-assed attempt to look undesirable though she knew that was impossible. She stepped into the living room, her eyes fixed to the floor. 

"Krit," she said softly, holding the bathroom doorknob like a lifeline. No answer. Slowly she looked up; the room was completely empty. "Krit?" she asked, slightly alarmed. He'd left her? It was true she was afraid she might have a nervous breakdown if she slept with him, but she didn't want to sleep with anyone else either. Her eyes scanned the room and she saw a small box on the bedside table. She walked over, picked it up, removed the lid. Inside was a syringe filled with 350mg of liquid; her eyes widened and she stared at it for several moments. 

Then she sprung into action. She found the 'do not disturb' sign and hung it on the doorknob for housekeeping, then locked the door and propped a chair against the knob for good measure. She just hoped Krit was somewhere nearby, because they weren't entirely sure they were out of the woods with Lydecker yet. She laid down on the bed and took out the syringe, pushing the air out and pulling up the sleeve of her shirt. She straightened her arm and tied it off just above her elbow, slipping the needle into her skin. She injected the liquid into her bloodstream and set the syringe back down on the bedside table. Pulling a blanket around her shoulders, she closed her eyes and waited for the sedative to take effect. 

  
Most of it, she didn't remember, and the rest was patchy at best. 

_It was a field, open and grassy and calm. The sun was shining down; it was summer, not very many clouds. It was hot but not unpleasant, breezy in just the right way. She was sitting in the grass, in a small thicket of bushes, wearing camos though she didn't know why. She glanced down at herself and she was holding a semi-automatic machine gun. She frowned at it but slung it over her shoulder, listened for any sign of life. No birds, no insects, nothing. _

"Syl!" Krit's face appeared beside her suddenly, similarly dressed and armed. He smiled at her. "Come see this." 

"Where are we?" she asked as he took her hand, pulling her from the thicket. He turned and gave her a strange look. 

"At Manticore." 

"Oh." She let him lead her through the field and then he stopped and pointed at the ground. She looked down and saw a raven, dead, it's feet twisted and blood dried in a dark stain on the grass underneath it. Krit looked sad as he gazed at it. 

"Bram," he said. 

"It was an accident," she answered, not taking her eyes off the bird that was her brother at the same time. Finally she forced herself to tear her eyes away from the sight to look around the field. "Where are the others?" 

"I don't know," he said, and shrugged. "Dead, I guess." 

"Oh." Syl crouched down beside a stream and cupped her hands in the cool water, taking a drink. 

"Watch out!" Krit exclaimed. "It'll malfunction." She followed his gaze and saw that her machine gun was dipping into the water, its end in the riverbank mud. She pulled it out and cleaned it with the corner of her camo jacket. 

"Sorry." She straightened and glanced at him. "What are our orders?" Krit wasn't looking at her, he was staring off into the distance. He threw a distracted look back at her. 

"Orders?" he asked, as though the thought that they had to do something specific had just occurred to him. "Oh, I'm supposed to find Zane." 

"I thought he was dead." 

"He will be, once I find him." 

"Where are the others?" she asked again. Krit turned and let out an exasperated breath. 

"You already killed them, Syl, you finished that part. Can't you see that?" He looked annoyed, and she opened her mouth to say that no, she couldn't, but then she glanced down at the water in the stream and it was red with blood from where she'd dipped her hands in. She looked at herself and her camos were soaked with blood as well, and now she could taste the metal-warm taste in her mouth, could feel it in smears against her cheeks. 

"I don't remember," she said, calmly. She glanced at Krit. "Why did I kill them?" 

"It's the mission," he said. 

"Why would Lydecker-" 

"No, not his," _he cut her off, annoyed. "Yours. It's your own personal mission." He finally gave her his full attention and sighed, leaned against a nearby tree. "I don't know what you're waiting for with me. Want me to do Zane for you, I guess." _

"I'm not going to kill you," she said, surprised. Krit laughed. 

"Right," he said dryly, slinging his machine gun over his shoulder. "That's what you said to every one of them. It's getting old." He sighed. "Well, I'll do Zane for you anyway. Then you can get to me." 

"And then what?" she asked. "I'll be alone." Krit shrugged. 

"That's your plan, isn't it?" he asked, and the scenery suddenly shifted and they were in a room. Krit walked to the other wall, glancing at a door nearby. It was partway open and she could see up into a darkened stairwell, which she knew led to a bedroom with a rose-petal design on the quilt. She could hear soft noises coming from upstairs. 

"Didn't I tell you never to open this door?" she asked, reaching over and slamming it closed. Krit grabbed it before it could hit the frame. 

"What's that sound?" 

"Nothing," she said, and pushed the door out of his hands and closed. "Don't go in there, Jared." It was still Krit, but he didn't seem to notice or mind the change in name. 

"What's going on up there?" he asked suspiciously. Syl shook her head, glanced away. 

"I can't tell you." 

"Why not? I want to help you." 

"I can't let you know that things like that exist. I have to take care of you, Zack said so." 

"Syl, you don't have to look after me anymore. I'm not a child." 

"We're all children," she whispered. Krit frowned, ran a hand through his hair. He reached for the doorknob and Syl panicked. 

"Jared!" she screamed. "Stay out of the bedroom!" She kicked him and sent him slamming backward into the opposite wall, where he stared at her with dark eyes full of anger and pain. There was a crash of broken glass upstairs and then a loud thump outside. The stairs creaked and then the door opened, and Zack emerged, grown-up though he shouldn't have been for the timing of what had just happened. He looked between Krit and Syl and then sighed, reacing for Syl and stroking her hair a bit. 

"Do what makes you happy," he said to her softly, pulling her into an embrace. "That's all I ever wanted for you." Syl cried into his chest for a moment and then she heard a crack and all his body weight came down hard on her. She stumbled and Zack slid to the floor in a pool of blood; she screamed loudly, whirled on Krit. His gun was still held toward Zack and he stared down at the body. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she dropped to the floor, cradling Zack's head in her arms. 

"He's dead," Krit said. 

"Why?" she whispered. "Why, why?" 

"He was causing all your problems," he said, crouching down beside her. "You kept missing him. You got the others, but not him. I was just trying to help. You don't want him around, he's too much like Lydecker." Syl looked at him sharply. 

"Zack was afraid to be Lydecker," she whispered. "He's not though. He's nothing like Lydecker." 

"Syl, you don't get it-" 

"You didn't know him!" she snapped, and stood up, trying to shake the sticky blood off her hands. Before he could answer the house and the sun suddenly slipped away and they were cast into darkness. Krit glanced up at the sky. 

"Look at the stars," he said. She gazed up at them for a moment, and then back at Krit. He was four years old again but still nearly eye-level; she'd become younger too. "Look at them, Syl." She reached out, ran a hand along his head. 

"I don't know if you know this, but everything I've ever done has been for you," she said softly. Krit looked up at her, smiled, reached out and hugged her. She held him close and watched the stars sparkle and glitter in the dark sky. Then she pulled back and said, "We'd better move out." 

"I don't want to go," he said. "I want to stay out here with you." 

"Just listen to me. I know what's best for you," she said, and Krit got angry. He pulled away from her violently, his lip trembling as he stared at her. 

"Stop saying that, Syl, you sound like Zack!" 

"Are you going to kill Zane or do I have to do it myself?" she asked firmly. Krit glared at her and ran a hand through his hair- she blinked. Older again, they both were. 

"It's my responsibility," he said. "He shouldn't have done that." 

"I did it," she said. "It was me." 

"I don't want to hear it, Syl," he muttered, then sighed. "Are you going to tell me what you told him or do I have to torture it out of him?" Syl swallowed hard. 

"I can't," she whispered. 

"Syl-" Before he could say anything more, she turned away from him and ran, heard him following, ran faster. She ran and ran until she wasn't even in the field anymore, and she was getting farther and farther away- 

Then she fell. 

A scream ripped from her throat and her hands scrambled to grab onto something but she was falling and there was nothing and she almost threw up. Then a strong hand grabbed her wrist at the last second and she looked up into Krit's eyes. 

"Hang on," he whispered, lying on his stomach on the clifftop, barely holding onto her. Her other hand came up and gripped his wrist tightly. He tried to haul her up but couldn't quite do it, so he just held on and they stayed that way. 

"I love you, Krit," she whispered finally. "I've never loved anyone like I love you." 

"I love you too, Syl," he answered softly. She gazed at him for a long time. 

"I'm scared." 

"It's okay." 

"Don't let me fall." 

"I won't." 

  
Syl's eyes slowly opened and she squinted against the bright light in the room; her mouth was parched dry and she felt like her head had been hit by a sledgehammer. She let out a groan of pain and the light clicked off, relieving her slightly. Krit's face came into view a moment later, his dark eyes sympathetic. She didn't want him at all. 

"Can you sit up?" he asked. She thought about that for a moment, nodded. 

"I think so," she said. His hand took hers tightly and pulled, and she fought dizziness for a moment, resting against the headboard. 

"What was that stuff?" she asked after she could think enough to form the words. "I had the strangest dreams..." 

"A very specialized type of kedamine," he said, sitting down beside her and brushing the hair from her face. "I got it a few days ago. I knew you were due." 

"That was really sweet, Krit," she said softly. This was one of only two times she'd gotten through a heat cycle without having to act on it, but she'd never tried sedatives before. Krit managed a lopsided smile and reached out to squeeze her hand. 

"Well, I'm a sweet guy," he said softly. She smiled and let go of him. 

"Yeah," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "I'm starving. And my head is killing me." 

"Sorry about that," he said. "Most of the other drugs I could get my hands on had side effects that were worse." 

"It's okay, baby brother," she assured him softly. She'd called him that quite a few times in the last little while, and he barely looked disappointed anymore. He smiled. 

"Something to eat?" 

"Yeah," she said. "Definitely." 

"And then we'll move out," he said. "We've been here too long." 

"I'll call Zack once we're on the road," she agreed. Krit nodded and stood up slowly, offering her a hand. She rose and helped him gather their things, leaving the motel room with him, incredibly glad it would be another three or four months before she'd have to deal with that again.   



	34. Chapter 33

When they finally got back on the road again Krit glanced into the backseat and laughed. "Syl, we still have those milk cartons back here." She wrinkled her nose at the road and glanced at him for a moment. 

"That's gotta stink," she remarked, and Krit picked one up, smelled it. 

"Yup." 

"We'll stop somewhere and throw them out," Syl said. "Make sure no milk dripped on the seats- I like this car." She smiled. "Though I guess you probably drained the whole thing from that seizure." She glanced at him and frowned at the expression on his face. "What's wrong?" 

"Pull the car over," he said softly. 

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, already obeying. She stopped the car and he handed over the milk carton without a word; she took it, bemused, and looked down. It took a long time for her to wrap her mind around what she was seeing. 

"February 20th," Krit said in a tiny voice. "The day we were compromised." He turned the milk carton in her hands so he could see it too, looking at the picture and stroking a finger down the side of Tinga's face. "She went back," he whispered. Tears blurred Syl's vision and she shook her head. 

"No," she breathed, looking horrified at the line reading 'HAVE YOU SEEN MY MOMMY?' 

"They'll never know," Krit said softly. "They'll never know what happened to her. Like Brin-" 

"Stop it," Syl bit out in a whisper, raising the carton to throw it into the backseat. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to do that, so she just laid it gently on the seat behind her and turned away. 

"We've lost them," she whispered. "All of them, not just Tinga. Zane, Jondy... we don't know where they are." She tried not to cry. Krit's hand was warm and soft against her hair. She tried to imagine how all of this had come about; she still hadn't had a chance to sit down and think about it since they'd been on the run. It couldn't have been that Zack talked, it couldn't. She wouldn't even consider that possibility. Something else must have happened. But what? She felt Krit's eyes on her. 

"Let me drive," he said gently. "You need to sleep." After a long moment she turned to him, eyes hollow, and nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt. They traded seats and Krit resumed driving; Syl settled back in her seat, but her eyes remained open and worried. After a few concerned glances in her direction Krit reached a hand over and took hers, squeezed. 

"Zack will tell us where they are when he calls," Krit murmured softly. "And what happened to Tinga." Syl wasn't so sure. Four of them had been compromised, and Zack was probably very annoyed about that; this would be a perfect opportunity to keep them apart. But she didn't say anything about that because she didn't want to upset Krit, so instead she closed her eyes and waited for sleep. It didn't come. 

"Krit," she said, eyes still closed. "Turn on the radio." She heard the click and country music came on; the channel was immediately changed to rock, alternative, rap... he couldn't seem to settle on something. Pre-pulse, reggae, pop, news... Syl started falling asleep. 

"... third murder in as many weeks. The first body, identified by the victim's widow as Timothy Ryan..." 

  
_Zack was standing on the shore of a large lake. The water was clear and cool and lapping gently, and the clouds were reflected in the lake. _

"It's beautiful," Syl said softly, coming to stand next to him. Zack grabbed her arm. 

"Be careful," he said urgently, pulling her back from the water. 

"What's wrong?" she asked him. 

"The water's poison." 

"I wasn't going to drink it." 

"Just stay back. I can't watch you all the time." 

"Where have you been, Zack?" she asked softly. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. Syl held him close, thankful for his strong presence. 

"It doesn't matter where I've been," he whispered. "I'm just glad to be here now." 

"Tinga's missing." 

"She's in there," Zack said, gesturing to the water. 

"Why didn't you stop her?" Syl asked, alarmed. He shrugged. 

"There's only so much I can do." He pushed her away a little. "You take up too much, there isn't enough left for all of them. Syl blinked against tears. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"Well, that doesn't do much good, does it, Syl?" 

  
"Syl!" Krit was nudging her awake. The news was still on and the car was stopped. 

"Music," she protested, glancing at him. "Why-" The look in his eyes stopped her. 

"Ben's killing again," he said. She stopped ignoring the radio. 

"... joining us, the body of Timothy Ryan was discovered last night in the woods outside Chicago. The victim's teeth were pulled out and his neck had been broken. Police are saying that the strength it would take to..." 

"I can't believe this," she whispered, her voice full of both anger and fear. "Didn't he see the broadcast, doesn't he know how dangerous it is for us now?" 

"I know," Krit said. "I know, I know." 

"... victim's widow is an eyewitness in this investigation which started as a missing person's case and has escalated to a statewide manhunt. The killer is described as a white male in his early twenties, with short brown hair, blue eyes, with unusual strength and speed. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you see anyone matching this description you are to immediately call the police. Do not attempt-" Krit switched the radio off. 

"Where are we?" Syl asked immediately. 

"Just entering Montana." 

"We can be in Chicago in four hours." 

"No, Syl," he said firmly. She stared at him. 

"This isn't a choice. Zack isn't here and we have to help Ben." 

"He's long gone by now, and if he isn't than he's as good as caught. We have to keep moving." She would have stared at him with disgust but the pain in his voice was obvious. She started crying. 

"Where is he?" he whispered. "Where is he?" 

"Ben?" Krit's hand was gentle against her hair. She started to pull away but somehow managed not to. 

"Zack." 

"He'll call." 

"Stop _saying_ that, you don't _know_ that." 

"You need to sleep, Syl." 

"What about Ben?" 

"We can't do anything." 

"I hate you," she whispered bitterly through her tears. Krit pulled his hand back and started the car. 

"Sleep, Syl," he said, his words barely audible. She kept crying and he kept driving and they didn't say anything more to each other that night. The radio stayed off. 

  
By the time they reached a motel in Billings it had been six hours since they'd said anything to each other. Krit checked them in and led her to a room, throwing his bag down on the first bed. He collapsed onto it, exhausted, and stared at the ceiling. 

"I want to sleep there," Syl spoke up quietly. 

"Why?" 

"I just want to." At that, Krit rose angrily to his feet and threw his bag onto the other bed. 

"Fine," he snapped. 

"Don't be mad," she said softly as she sat gingerly on the edge of her bed. Krit turned and stared at her for so long that it made her uncomfortable. "What?" 

"Syl, what the hell is wrong with you?" he asked suddenly, his voice angry. She blinked. 

"Wha-" 

"I have tried _everything_ I can think of, Syl! I've tried being gentle with you, I've tried being tough on you- nothing works! You just keep shutting me out. I don't even know you anymore. You never talk to me. I just don't know what you want from me and it's so goddamn frustrating!" Syl cringed away from his harsh tone and he glared. "Don't do that. Don't act like that. What's wrong with you?" he asked again. 

"Stop it!" she yelled suddenly. Stop trying to push me!" she yelled back. There was a short, tense silence. 

"You blame me," he said. She didn't respond for a moment, surprised by his statement. 

"That's ridiculous, Krit." 

"Then why won't you let me touch you? Why do you turn away every goddamn time I try to talk to you?" he shouted. Syl blinked against tears and glared. 

"Stop yelling at me," she hissed. Krit ran a hand through his hair and sat down beside her. 

"I can't deal with you being like this on top of everything else. Do you think this is easy for me?" 

"Then why don't you just go?" she asked bitterly. "If I'm so hard to deal with, just go." 

"Syl-" 

"No, really, I don't care!" She stood up and stalked to the other side of the hotel room. "Go, Krit. Lydecker's not on our tail anymore, he would have found us by now if he was. Just go, we don't need each other anymore." 

Krit looked angry. Really, really angry. 

"Dammit, Syl, why the hell do you talk like that?" he growled. "You know that's not-" He broke off and shook his head, too angry to speak. "I can't deal with this." 

"Then go!" she yelled again. She was crying now. He stared at her, then walked over suddenly, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her to face him. He gave her a shake. 

"I don't know what the hell you want from me, Syl," he said, his voice low. His eyes were dark and angry and she was upset that they scared her. 

"Don't, Krit," she said softly, bringing a hand up and laying it on his chest, giving him a firm nudge. He dropped his hands and clenched them into fists at his sides. Then he turned and grabbed his jacket, slamming out of the hotel room. Syl sank down against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. After a little while she stumbled to their things and found the bottle of tryptophan they'd picked up a few days back, popped a few. She laid down in her bed and tried to get some sleep, but all she could concentrate on was the silence coming from where Krit should have been.   



	35. Chapter 34

For three days straight, all she did was lie there and stare at the wall, never getting up unless she had to. She watched the shadows chase across it through the day and the light chase across it through the night. The wall was white, not exceptionally, but white enough that it couldn't be called anything else but white. It was dirty, yes, but under all the crust and filth and grime, it was still white. Still clean under dirt- she wondered if that statement made any sense at all, didn't care. 

On the third day the door opened and a smell assaulted her, a smell of some sort of food, meaty food with fat and protein and iron. Blood. Syl jumped out of bed without even turning around and ran to the bathroom, throwing up. But she hadn't eaten anything in three days, so nothing much happened except that her shoulders shook and she wretched and her throat hurt after she stopped. Gentle hands- Krit's hands- pulled her upward, took her clothes off, eased her into the motel room's disgusting bathtub. She sobbed as he washed her hair, as he cleaned off three days of grime from her skin- she stared at herself through her tears and was amazed at how she had gotten so dirty just lying in bed. 

Afterward, he pulled the plug and helped her to her feet, wrapping a warm, soft, clean towel around her and putting an arm around her, walking her back into the other room and sitting her on the bed. He sat next to her and he had a sandwich with him, some kind of steak sandwich, full of nutrition. She tried to take it but she didn't have the energy so she just leaned her head against his shoulder and let him feed it to her in small, messy pieces. Finally she couldn't take it anymore and he put it down, let her sob into him. It was amazing how much energy she had expended just lying in bed, not sleeping or even crying very often, just lying there. And she was absolutely exhausted from it. 

Krit took the blanket and wrapped it around her because she was shivering. He gave her some tryptophan, moving to sit behind her, and he swept her hair back from her face. Then there was a series of gentle tugs and pulls that didn't hurt at all. It took her a little while to figure out what he was doing. 

"You know how to braid hair?" 

"One of my foster sisters taught me," he said, the first words he'd spoken to her since he'd stormed out- since she'd driven him out- three nights before. Syl felt him tie off the braid with an elastic band and she leaned back into his arms, letting him hold her close. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead and rocked her slightly, and soon she was crying again but it wasn't the same as before, it wasn't desperate sobs anymore. It wasn't happy tears either, but it was somewhere in between. It felt better than the tears she'd been crying before, and that was definitely something. 

Syl didn't really know how long they sat there, how long he held her, until his arms ached probably, until he probably wanted nothing more than to get up and leave again. But he didn't. He just sat there and let her cry, let her sleep, let her wake up and cry some more. After… hours? a day? his cell phone rang. It was while she was in one of her half-asleep states that she'd passed in and out of the last couple of days. She felt Krit let go of her long enough to reach over to his jacket and get the phone. Everything had been darkness and silence and soft breathing up to that point. Then the ringing. Syl's eyes opened and she tried to focus on Krit's voice. 

"The phone." He finally sounded intelligible; intelligible, but far away. His arms shifted and her head felt strange. He took a look at her and brushed the hair from her face, frowned. "You still groggy?" She tried to nod but didn't quite manage it. Krit held the phone to his ear and said, "Hello?" 

"Where are we?" Syl asked, raising herself to glance out the window. She saw dark, generic scenery that gave her no indication of her whereabouts. She glanced at Krit and he had a strange look on his face because they were still in the same motel room, hadn't moved for the better part of a week, and he knew she knew that. The strange thing was, she knew she did too. Then the phone was being held out to her. She took it and asked, "Hello?" 

"Hey." Softness and love and relief- _I know that voice._

"Who's this?" 

"Syl," Krit's voice was surprised. 

"Syl," and so was Zack's. She gasped. 

"Sorry, I've just been lying here too long," she said, and realized after a moment that he would have no idea what she was talking about. But she didn't want to explain. "You're alright?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Where are you?" 

"In Canada." 

"Zack, Tinga's gone back there just like Brin," Syl told him, feeling tears stinging her eyes. 

"No," he said gently. "She's with me, she's fine." 

"The milk cartons..." 

"What?" 

"Nothing, nothing. What's she doing with you?" 

"She had a close call with Lydecker's people in Portland so I got her out." 

"Where are you?" 

"Canada." He sounded worried. "I told you." 

"By the sea?" 

"Yeah." 

"That's nice." 

"Syl, are you okay? Let me talk to Krit." 

"I love you, Zack." 

"Can I talk to Krit?" he asked gently. She nodded and handed the phone to him, yawning and feeling more content but still slightly odd, surreal almost. Zack's tone to Krit was both soft and hard at the same time, and Krit's explanations didn't seem to satisfy him. Syl's mind zoned out and the stars were shining out the window. 

"Is he coming?" she asked after a long time, not really even expecting an answer. Krit's hand slipped through her hair and pressed against her barcode, and she gasped because it was so sensitive to the touch and his fingers were very cool. She blinked several times and straightened, glanced at him. "Is he coming?" she asked again, this time firmly. Again Krit held the phone out to her. 

"Ask him." 

"Zack," Syl said. "How long are you going to be in Canada?" 

"I have to get Tinga settled," Zack said, and she could tell by his voice that he was frowning. "And right now she's not cooperating very much with that." 

"Let her husband help her get settled," Syl said, trying not to sound desperate. "I need to see you." Suddenly she thought she might cry again, in the bad way. "I really need to see you, Zack." He was quiet for a long moment. 

"Her husband's still in Portland," he said softly. Syl blinked. 

"Case?" 

"Portland." When she didn't say anything Zack added, "She made this decision. Best one she ever did- better for her, better for them. Better for all of you." 

"Spare me the propaganda," Syl said, but her voice was more sad and tired than angry. "And now she's reconsidering? Can I talk to her?" 

"She's not here right now." 

"Where is she?" 

"The more important question is where are you?" 

"I'm not sure, I was wondering that myself." There was silence and she could hear his worry. "I'm fine, Zack," she said before he even had a chance to ask. 

All he said was, "Put Krit back on now, Syl." And he sounded so annoyed and worried all at once that it made her smile, made her want to cry. She handed the phone to Krit and let the tears fall as she listened to Zack's soft tone and how much he loved her. 

  
Helena was cloudy and there was rain. People warned of storms. Syl loved it. She loved the smell just before it rained, she loved the people and the things they talked about, and she loved the smell just after it rained too. They didn't get an aparment in Helena, they got a house. It was a little one, two bedrooms, but there was a yard and there could be flowers in the gardens if she wanted. There could be a swing in the back if she wanted. There could be a white picket fence with a gate that squeaked in a charming way and there could be a real life if she wanted. 

It was all Zack's doing. He was okay, he wasn't in Manticore, he wasn't brainwashed or scared or dead. Tinga was with him and no she wasn't with Charlie and no she wasn't with Case, but she was alive. Safe. And Syl was grateful. 

"You look happier," Krit said to her after a couple of weeks had passed. Zack called every little while, just check-ins, and things were better. Almost normal. "You don't look so pale," Krit added. Syl smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn't a half-smile. It was a real one. Even her eyes smiled. She was sitting at the kitchen table at the time, sipping orange juice. Krit sat next to her and when he took her hand she didn't mind. He kissed her and she didn't flinch. Then they went upstairs to bed at three in the afternoon and she didn't scream or have a nervous breakdown or make him run out the door. She didn't even cry in his arms afterward. She didn't want to. 

She just laid there after he was asleep, happy and waiting for it all to just come crashing down.   



	36. Chapter 35

_"I'm going to kill Brin," Zack said, collapsing onto the sofa. Syl would have laughed if he didn't look so serious. He'd been gone for a couple of days, and killing Brin wasn't exactly a common plan of anyone, let alone Zack. Brin was so agreeable. Syl put down the book that was resting on her large stomach, wobbled to her feet and walked over to sit down beside him. _

"What did she do?" she asked, and he sighed, glanced at her, put his arm around her. 

"How are you doing?" he asked. 

"I'm fine," she assured him. 

"The baby?" he asked, putting a hand on her stomach. A sharp kick answered him and they both smiled. Zack dropped his hand and gave her a squeeze. "She wants to write a book," he said. 

"About what?" 

"Us." 

"What?" 

_"Oh, she's going to mess with it so it's not really us." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Change the names, the places, the details." He was so tired that he wasn't even bothering to use his usual guarded tone, not that he used it that often with her anymore anyway. "She even asked me to suggest a title." Syl put a hand over her face to stifle her laughter. _

"What did you say?" she couldn't resist asking. He gave her his best serious expression. 

"I said she should call it I'm an X5, Capture me Now," _he said dryly. After that, Syl couldn't stop herself from laughing anymore. She fell backward on the sofa laughing and finally Zack just had to smile._

  
Syl woke up grinning. Good memories. It was dark, still very early morning obviously. She stretched luxuriously, catlike, and turned over to cuddle close to Krit and fall back asleep. But he wasn't there. She frowned, rolled onto her back and listened to the night, trying to figure out where he'd gone at two or three in the morning. He wasn't in the bathroom. He wasn't in the kitchen. Or if he was in one of those places, he was being very quiet about it. 

She got up and dressed, for some reason tying her hair back, for some reason grabbing a gun from under the bed. It was like automatic- a comfort maybe. She went downstairs in full defense mode in case there was an intruder, in case she'd find Krit in the middle of a very violent- but very quiet- altercation. 

He was standing in the den, staring out the window at nothing. She stopped in the doorway and shifted her weight from one foot to the other for a long time. Finally she just cleared her throat; he glanced over and she knew he'd known she was there all along. His eyes trailed to the handgun held loosely in her hands. She was playing with the safety, clicking it on and off in her nervousness. Krit walked over and took the gun from her, setting it on one of a bookshelf. He wrapped his arms around her and she smiled into his embrace, holding him close. 

  
One week after that, Ben stopped killing people. 

"Good," Krit said that night at dinner. "Maybe Jondy found him again and kicked some sense into him." Syl allowed a small smile. 

"Or Max," she said. "He was in Seattle last we heard." She shrugged. "One of those two are the only ones I'd think could get through to him." 

"They were always close," he agreed, then let out a long sigh. "I'm just glad we don't have to see that when we listen to the news anymore." 

"Why listen to the news anyway?" Syl asked, smiling. "What's its relevant to us?" Her smile faded slightly as she realized the idiocy of that statement, given that Ben had been a top story for weeks. She shrugged and ate a mouthful of potatoes. 

Krit chose that moment to reach across the table, take her hand, and say, "Let's have a baby, Syl." For a long time the only sound was her chewing, swallowing, and taking a sip of water. She turned her hand over and held his, squeezed. 

"Okay," she said. He looked shocked, like he'd been expecting her to say no and had a whole speech ready in his head to comfort himself, but nothing for the possibility that she would say yes. So he just smiled a slow, happy smile and stood up, pulling her up into a hug and kissing her deeply. She laughed when they finally pulled apart, breathless. 

"Wait till I finish my food," she joked. Krit laughed and sat back down across from her. He was staring at her like she was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen, and she rolled her eyes and smiled at him- a little nervously but mostly not. 

_Do what makes you happy._ Montana was pretty and the air smelled good and she'd never been more sane than she was right now. Ben had stopped killing, Tinga was safe, Zack was free. A baby seemed like a pretty fantastic idea. 

* * *

They tried unsuccessfully eight times. 

"Maybe we have to wait till you're in heat," he suggested one morning when she very upset about it. "That's how it worked last time." He smiled but Syl remained silent, knowing that it was possible to get pregnant outside of heat. She sighed and he asked, "What's wrong?" But she just shook her head. He took her hand and squeezed. "We have lots of time," he assured her, then a sly smile spread over his face. "And it's not as if I'm not having fun trying." He winked and got a smile from her and kissed her softly. 

"Pig," she said, giving him a playful shove. He laughed, giving her another kiss before getting up to make them something to eat. Syl lounged in bed for a while and Krit came back with their food, Belgian waffles that she'd had no idea he could make. 

"You're just full of surprises," she remarked, raising an appreciative eyebrow before digging in. They were delicious and she told him that through a mouthful. He laughed and kissed a bit of whipped cream from the corner of her mouth before starting on his own plate. She reached over and trailed a hand through his dark hair, loving the feel of it, how soft it was. He glanced at her and smiled tenderly, and she felt her heart flutter. 

  
Then the phone rang. 

  
Krit sighed and reached over but suddenly she found herself blurting, "Don't answer that." His fingers paused on the receiver and he turned and gave her a strange look. 

"It could be important," he said. She was just staring at his hand on the phone, listening to the ring, but then suddenly the strange feeling left her and she blinked several times, laughing a little, embarrassed. Krit reached for her hand and squeezed it, picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" Then Syl was pushing away her waffles because the look on his face made her want to throw up. He said something, she didn't even know what, wasn't even sure it had been English. Then he hung up the phone. He didn't say anything to her, he just turned and stared. His usual olive-toned face was pale, which made him look very strange and very frightened. 

Finally she couldn't stand it anymore and she whispered, "What?" As soon as the word came out an invisible wall broke inside of her and she was crying. "What?" she sobbed. He spoke in a tiny whisper, not even breath, not even close, not something anybody who wasn't X5 would have had a hope of hearing. Syl almost didn't hear it, and what she thought he said sounded like something horrible, something she didn't want to know he'd just said. 

But for some reason she repeated, "What?" 

"Tinga's dead," he said it again, that same whisper, and suddenly she wanted to slap him, slap him hard, because how _dare_ he tell her that she'd heard him right. But there was more. "We're going to Seattle." 

And Syl just sat there.   



	37. Chapter 36

From Syl's point of view, the drive flew by in moments. No amount of travel time could have been long enough to let the information she'd just received sink in properly. Tinga was dead. But she'd just been in Canada with Zack. He'd saved her from Lydecker. But she was dead. 

"It was Zack on the phone, wasn't it?" she asked when they were halfway through Washington. 

"Yes, Syl," Krit said gently, his voice quiet. "For the third time... it was Zack." 

"And he's alright?" 

"He's fine." 

"But she's dead." 

He stiffened. "Yes," he whispered. 

"Why?" 

"I don't know, Syl." 

"Where's Case?" 

"I don't know." 

"Where's-" 

"I don't _know,_ Syl," he said again, harsher, tearing his eyes away from the road to look at her, plead with her to stop pressing him for the same details he'd been saying he didn't know for hours. She bit her lip and waited for tears to come, but they didn't. There weren't any left. 

"She's dead?" Syl whispered. Krit pulled the car off the road and turned to her, pulling her close. She wrapped her arms around him and felt her shoulders shaking. 

"More tryptophan," Krit said, finally releasing her. He smoothed the hair from her face and gave her what must have been her seventh dose since they'd left Montana. She swallowed, felt the trembling stop, looked out the window at the cloudy sky. It had started raining. Seattle was just over the horizon. 

  
They were there by nightfall. Zack looked very, very agitated when they arrived at his rendez-vous point, an upscale penthouse apartment in the financial district. Syl's eyes immediately slid around the room as they entered, her gaze falling on an unknown man sitting at a computer; he was in a wheelchair, therefore weak and easily incapacitated, but he still made her edgy. 

"Who's this?" Krit asked as soon as he walked in behind her, voicing her own concerns. Syl watched Zack toss a look to the man, barely-contained hostility in his eyes. Immediately she was in complete defensive mode. 

"I'm a friend of Max's," the guy spoke up. "My name's Logan Cale." Syl narrowed her eyes at him and looked to Zack for confirmation. He nodded so she relaxed her stance slightly, but Zack was giving mixed signals. 

She extended a hand. "Syl." 

"One of the twelve that escaped in '09," he said, nodding as he shook her hand. She withdrew it from him slowly. 

"How did you know that?" 

"He knows all about who we are," Zack said, sounding very annoyed. "Max told him." 

"Where is she?" Krit spoke up, not bothering to tell Logan his name. 

"Lydecker has her," Zack said. Syl sat down on the arm of Logan's sofa- hard. Zack went on firmly, "She's alright. We're running a search on her location now." 

"I've got a guy trying to pinpoint her location," Logan said. "I'm expecting a call within the half-hour." 

"And Tinga's dead?" Syl whispered. Krit glanced away as Zack walked over and touched his hand to her shoulder lightly. 

"I'm not going to let them do anything to Max," he said softly. "We won't lose her too." Syl turned and hugged him close. 

"It wasn't your fault," she whispered with conviction. Zack let her hold him for a moment, then pulled back and cleared his throat. 

"How was the drive?" he asked. 

"Good," Krit answered. 

"Need anything?" 

"We're both working, we have money," Krit said. "Could use some tryptophan if you've got some though, we're running low." Zack's eyes slid to Syl with concern. 

"I'm alright," she said. He nodded and reached for his bag, pulling out a bottle and tossing it to Krit. 

"I have extra," he explained. Krit nodded and pocketed it. 

"So what, we just wait?" he asked, edgy. 

"We could order in pizza," a new voice said, and Syl and Krit both jumped to their feet. Two handguns were already out and trained on the man who entered the room. He froze. 

"Bling," Logan said quickly. "A friend. He's on our side." Krit's eyes narrowed at the man and Syl didn't move. "Zack," he warned. 

Zack glared but nodded. "It's alright." Krit and Syl lowered their weapons slowly. 

"Maxie certainly has made herself comfortable here," Syl remarked, her voice envious and disapproving at once. Then Logan stood up. 

"What. The. Hell?" Syl bit out, her gun pointed at him now. "What, you just like to pretend to be disabled?" Zack didn't seem to be in any hurry to call her off, so she held her ground. 

"It's okay, Syl," he said finally. "It's a long story, but it's okay." She lowered her gun again, holstering it this time, and sat back in the sofa. 

"Fine," she said, annoyed. 

"I was going to ask if anyone wanted a drink," Logan said after a moment of silence. Krit and Zack nodded and asked for 'whatever,' and Syl requested water. "I could use a hand in the kitchen," he said. She sighed and stood up, throwing Zack a frustrated glance with which he seemed to agree. 

"You sure you don't want some wine?" Logan asked as he pulled out a bottle. "Chardonet, 2016." 

"I don't drink," Syl answered. 

"Why not?" he asked, reaching for a corkscrew. Syl sat down on one of the stools pulled up to his bar counter and shrugged. 

"Used to be an alcoholic," she said suddenly. "The taste reminds me." He raised an eyebrow at her, pausing. 

"I didn't think that was possible for an X5." 

"If you drink enough," she said. "If you start young enough." She didn't know why she was telling this to a stranger, Krit didn't even know. Like most events of her past, only Zack had been a witness to that particular chapter in her life. 

Logan handed Syl a glass of water and she sipped it. He didn't seem to be in a big hurry to go back into the living room and neither was she. He took a seat across from her. 

"Are you and Zack an item?" he asked after a moment of silence. Syl laughed loudly, and she would have choked had she not swallowed just before he'd said it. 

"He's my brother," she said, smiling into her glass of water. "What kind of family did you grow up in?" Logan had the decency to blush slightly. 

"You two just seem to have a rapport," he said. "Zack doesn't seem the same with you as he is with the others." He shrugged. "Not that I've had the pleasure of meeting all your brothers and sisters yet." 

Syl's smirk softened a bit, nostalgia entering her eyes as she thought about the others, some of whom she'd never see again... She cleared her throat. "I'm with Krit," she offered. 

"But isn't he your brother too?" Logan asked after a moment. Syl chuckled and stood up, giving his shoulder a slap. 

"Don't even try," she suggested, heading back into the living room with her water. 

"I don't think I will," Logan said, following her. She sat down next to Krit and handed him his glass of wine, Logan giving Zack his. Syl leaned her head against Krit's shoulder and yawned. 

"You can crash in the guestroom tonight," Logan said. "There's a double in there and I doubt Zack is going to sleep." 

"How long are we going to wait before we get her out of there?" Syl asked, looking to Zack. 

"We don't know where they are yet," he said, frustrated. He softened a bit. "But go ahead and sleep, I'll wake you when it's time." Syl opened her mouth to protest, but a yawn came out instead. 

"Tired?" she asked Krit. He smiled. 

"Not really." 

"I'm going to take a nap then," she said. "I'll see you in an hour or so." She reached out and squeezed Zack's shoulder. She wanted to hug him, but they were both in mission-mode. 

Syl went into the guest room and shrugged out of her leather jacket, kicking off her shoes and slipping between the soft sheets. Her eyes closed and she started to drift off; then they snapped open again, her whole body freezing. She turned her face into the pillow and her breath caught sharply, tears stinging her eyes. She got up slowly, finding her shoes and jacket again, heading back out of the bedroom despite her exhaustion and making a bee-line for the door. Zack and Krit both stood up quickly as she went by. Logan gave her a curious look. 

"Syl," Zack spoke up. She paused, turning back, her eyes flitting between the three men. 

"The bed smells like Tinga," she said. "I'm going for a walk." 

"Stay close," Zack answered, sitting back down, his face weary. "We might have to mobilize within the hour." 

"I'll go with you," Krit spoke up, but Syl shook her head. He slowly sat down next to Zack, looking at him pointedly. 

"I can't go," Zack said. 

"I'm an adult and I'm X5," she muttered angrily, pressing the elevator button. "I think I can handle going outside by myself." 

The phone rang just as the elevator doors parted, and Syl groaned, but turned back dutifully, eyes locking with Zack's as Logan spoke on the phone. She walked over to him and touched his hand, and if it had been anyone but Zack he would have jumped, but he just turned and looked at her affectionately, which was as much as he could manage right now. Syl was just glad to be close to him again, with his presence so safe beside her. 

Logan hung up the phone. "My guy's still searching on her location," he said, which made Zack tense with disappointment and helplessness. 

"He can call us in the field," Zack said, standing up and turning to Krit and Syl. "Now that you're here we'll prepare for mobilization." He glanced at Logan. "The waterfront." 

  
Zack allowed Logan to drive them to their destination, something which surprised Syl, as she and Krit sat quietly in the back. They pulled into an old warehouse on the oceanfront and Zack went outside to make sure they were alone. Krit set his duffle bag on the table. 

"I lifted this from the sector police on our way into Seattle," he explained at Logan's surprised glance as Krit began to pull weapons from the bag and set them on the table. Syl grabbed a handgun and tested its weight as Logan pulled out his cell phone, dialling his contact again. Zack reentered the warehouse and walked over to them. 

"Krit, Syl, what do you got?" he asked. Krit held up a small machine gun and frowned. 

"Packs a punch, but I've only got forty rounds." 

"I'll track some more down," Zack promised, turning toward Syl. "What about you, little sister?" She smiled to herself, trying not to show how incredibly happy she was to hear him say that again after so long. She grabbed one of the grenades and her smile turned to a smirk. 

"Russian-made RGN-3s, fragmentation pattern explosion." She tossed it to Zack and he caught it, gave it an appreciative look. 

"Nice," he said, and Syl smiled to herself again, feeling content to be back in a mission, back with Zack, even under the circumstances. She glanced up as Logan rejoined them, clicking off his cell phone. 

"That was a contact of mine," he said. "Military convoy just swooped in on some motel in sector eight." 

Zack nodded. "That's got to be them. Let's move out." Syl stood immediately with Krit at the order, sliding the clip into one of the compact handguns. They headed for the doors, but before they could reach them they burst open. Syl raised her gun first and registered the Manticore hummer second, Zack and Krit doing the same. Logan was off to the side, but Syl was much more concerned with what was right in front of them. The car stopped and the glare fell away from the window, and even after the many years of separation it was easy for Syl to see Max in the beautiful girl smiling at them. Krit turned and grinned at Syl, and all three lowered their weapons, though Zack was still tense. Max got out of the truck and hurried over to them. 

"Krit," she breathed, running into his arms. 

"Hey Maxie," he answered, his voice soft with love and delight. 

"Syl," Max said next, hugging her. Syl squeezed her tightly and closed her eyes, giving her an affectionate slap on the back. When Max released her, she smiled at Zack and greeted Logan with a soft, "Hey." 

"Hey yourself," he answered, and immediately Syl knew they were in love. "How'd you know where to find us?" Max turned and went back to the hummer, opening the door of the backseat. 

"Bling told me there was a party," she answered, pulling out a man, handcuffed and blindfolded. He staggered forward as she tugged the blindfold off, blinking against the light. 

  
_BANG! ... Eva fell to the ground, dead, her blood spilling against the floor, splattering on the children behind her. Syl clamped her hand over Krit's eyes and looked up to see who was holding the gun, who had killed her sister..._

  
"Look what the cat dragged in," she breathed, feeling a little sick at seeing him after all this time, feeling even more sick as he dragged his eyes over her, knew exactly who she was. She hated the ownership in his eyes as he sized her up, then did the same to Krit and Zack. He had no right to look at them like that. 

"You said you needed a few perfect soliders," Max said to Lydecker. "Well, here we are." Syl's eyes flew to Zack and he looked angry. 

"What are you talking about?" he snapped. 

"He's going to help us," she answered calmly. 

"Help us _what?"_ Krit demanded, and Syl could tell from his voice that he didn't think Lydecker could help with anything but dying at their hands for a deep, satisfying revenge. She couldn't agree more. 

But Max, apparently, had other plans. She raised her chin and said, "Take down Manticore." Syl stared at Max for a moment, then exchanged a look with Krit. They both looked at Zack for some sort of explanation for this insane statement, but he just set his jaw very firmly, and glared at Max as she walked over to a platform with another table on it. He followed her immediately, and Krit and Syl were right behind him, not loosening their grips on their guns for a second. Zack sat down in one of the chairs and Krit on the stairs, but Syl leaned against the railing, seeming lazy, her handgun held at her side, but she was coiled and ready for anything. 

"This is crazy, Max," Zack snapped after Syl watched her try to stare him down. "We've made it this far by staying under the radar. Blending in." 

"Always on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder..." Max was pacing, and she stopped in front of Zack. "You said it yourself, they'll never stop looking for us. They'll hunt us down one by one until we're either dead or in a cage." There was a pause out of respect for Brin and Tinga, and as Syl suddenly realized, Ben. He was dead, too. Max went on, "It's time to bring this war home." 

"Maybe you're right," Syl spoke up. She nodded in Lydecker's direction. "But what about him?" Zack picked up her train of thought immediately. 

"You expect us to believe he's had some kind of epiphany because of what happened to Tinga?" Again, the pause of respect. 

"Maybe," Max relented. "Or one of his bosses wants him dead in a big way." 

"Take a number," Krit spat. 

"Either way he's going to help us," Max said stubbornly. 

"Or double-cross you," Logan spoke up, for the first time making Syl consider that he might actually be useful. He added, "Again," and Syl filed that away for later examination. 

"I don't expect you to trust me," Lydecker said, and Syl, though she appeared calm, wanted to strangle him just for _thinking_ that he had any right to speak. "But remember what I taught you. The enemy of my enemy is my friend." 

"Shut up," Zack snapped, seconds before Syl was about to retort. She smiled briefly over at her brother in support and turned dispassionately back to Lydecker. Max had given him a cup of coffee; Syl hoped he spilled it down his chest and scalded himself. 

"I know that facility and its capabilities like the back of my hand," he continued, raising the coffee cup. Syl tried, but telekinesis was unfortunately not one of the things programmed into her genetic code, and it lowered again, leaving him unscathed. "I can get us inside." 

"Then what?" she asked. Her respect for Max was rapidly declining; she loved her, but what was she thinking listening to his lies? "There are only four of us," she pointed out. "What kind of damage can we do?" 

"You take out the DNA lab," Lydecker answered slowly. "Destroy their ability to develop a new generation of soldiers." As he spoke he reached out and grasped the air like he was crushing something. Syl was about ready to crush his head. 

Zack did not look impressed with the suggestion. "And what's to keep our enemy, or the enemy of our enemy, from starting over?" 

"You remember when you kids escaped?" Lydecker asked. Now Syl really wanted to kill him, wanted to scream, _Of course I_ remember, _you murdered my sister and tried to drag us all back there, and even when we got away, you never stopped, not_ ever, _I'm twenty-one years old and you still haven't stopped!_ Instead, she remained silent, impassive. 

"They almost shut the place down," he went on. "That's nothing compared to what will happen if we can take out the lab. There'll be a war of finger-pointing, funding will disappear, and Manticore..." She hated how he trailed off dramatically, like he was giving a speech, like they were supposed to be impressed. Finally he finished, "Will cease to exist." They all absorbed that for a moment. How he spoke of Manticore as just one project which could lose funding, interest, like any other, influriated Syl. Creating children and putting machine guns in their hands as soon as they could walk was not a project, it was a crime, and it shouldn't have been treated in such an offhand way. But as much as she hated it, that's how people like Lydecker and his superiors thought of it, and her- a project. An experiment. Syl's eyes slid to Krit, watching him gather his thoughts, and he was the first to speak. 

"It's worth a shot," he said, and that made Syl sad because he was right. 

"I'm getting tired of running," she added. 

Zack said, "I don't like it." Syl knew the words were coming long before he ever said them. 

"There is no 'I' in 'team,' Zack." Syl could have killed Lydecker for that; Zack just ignored him. 

"I don't like it either," Max said. "But we don't have a choice." 

"You so much as breathe wrong," Zack hissed at Lydecker, "There'll be four of us to take you out." 

"Make that five," Logan spoke up. Syl respected that, but it wasn't really much of a threat. 

Lydecker took a breath. "Got it," he said. 

Now that Zack had givne the okay, the thought actually excited Syl, to be rid of them, rid of it all. The thought of living a life where you weren't always looking behind you, making sure your hair was covering your neck, making sure you didn't leave a trace, didn't make any impressions... it would be nice to throw that all away. And if she died trying? Syl knew very well that there were far worse things than death.   



	38. Chapter 37

"Where have you been living since you left home, Syl?" Lydecker asked her as he drew careful lines on a piece of cardboard. She raised her head and stared at him, not sure what to react to first: the fact that he thought he had a right to be talking to her, the fact that he dared to call Manticore her home, or the fact that he was using her name. She didn't answer him, so he looked to Krit. "What about you?" he asked. 

"Shut up," Krit said, tilting his gun a little to remind Lydecker it was there. This didn't seem to deter him at all, and he stopped drawing for a moment, leaning back to look at them better. 

"Do you have families?" It bothered Syl that he actually sounded interested. When neither of them responded he opened his mouth again, and suddenly Syl knew that he was going to stay something about Tinga, about her family, about her death. She stood up. 

"Shut up and finish the goddamned map right now," she growled. He gazed at her for a few moments, and she stared right back. Then he stopped his questioning and picked up the felt marker again. Krit reached out and put a warm, comforting hand on her arm, and she slowly returned to her seat, tense. Lydecker raised an eyebrow. "I see," he said, going back to the map again. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Syl couldn't help hissing. 

"Syl," Krit warned, but Lydecker took it as an invitation to set down the marker agin. 

"You two," he said, shaking his head. He had a small, patronizing smile on his face. "You really think you can be together out here? If you came home-" 

"If we went back there you'd stick her in the breeding program and ship me overseas," Krit snapped. Lydecker looked at him, surprised, and Krit smiled smugly. "What?" he asked. "You think we didn't know what was going on?" Again he flicked his gun at Lydecker. "No more talking unless we ask you a direct question. Draw the goddamn map." 

Lydecker had the sense not to smile. Then his eyes shifted and Syl heard soft footsteps approaching- Zack's. She turned to him. 

"Krit," he said. "There's an animal control van in sector four I need commandeered. Go with Max." Krit nodded and sent one glance at Syl before grabbing his assault rifle from his duffle bag and heading out the door with Max. Zack looked to Syl and then tossed a handgun to Logan. "He so much as stands up from that table, shoot him," Zack ordered, not even waiting for Logan's nod as he turned and walked away, knowing Syl would follow. They moved to the side of the warehouse where Zack could talk to her privately and still keep an eye on Logan and Lydecker. 

"How are you doing?" Zack asked her when they were relatively alone. She smiled at him, fixing her eyes somewhere on his chest, her expression forcibly brave. "I'm fine, Zack." 

He sighed and tipped her chin up. "Liar." 

As soon as Syl's eyes met his, her own filled with tears. She nodded, biting her lip, and whispered, "Yeah." 

Zack touched Syl's face softly. "After this mission is over you can hang around with me for a while if you want," he said after a moment. 

Syl brightened significantly. "Really?" 

"Sure," Zack answered. "Not forever... but for a while." He squeezed her shoulder. "I know losing Brin and Tinga has been hard." 

Syl hesitated as she felt a pang, remembering the newscasts she and Krit had been listening to for the past few weeks, but she looked at Zack's tired face and held her tongue, nodding instead. "Yeah, it has been," she said softly. He was looking at her with such concern that she stretched her lips into a smile and reached for his hand, squeezing it. "After tonight, things will be different," she said. 

"They will," Zack answered immediately. "I promise." That comforted Syl immensely and she hugged him. He put his arms around her and held her for a few moments, and then there was a honk outside the warehouse. "They're back," he said, letting go of her to open the warehouse doors for Max and Krit. Syl followed him as Max drove into the warehouse in a white animal control van. Krit slid open the side door to reveal quite a bit of high-tech computer equipment. 

Syl smiled, impressed. "Nice." 

Max hopped out of the driver's seat and smiled back at her sister. "Yeah, not a bad setup." She called to Lydecker, "We got it." 

Logan and Lydecker both moved to the van and started inspecting it. "Well, with a few modifications we can run our operation from in here." Lydecker said. 

Logan nodded. "I'll get on it." 

Zack nodded and headed for the table. Krit and Lydecker followed him but Syl hung back, grabbing Max's hand. "Max..." she trailed off as Max waited curiously. "I..." Her eyes flitted to Zack and then she said softly, "I wanted to ask you if you'd seen the news broadcasts about Ben. Last we heard, he was in Seattle..." She watched as Max's expression changed, and they lost eye contact as Max glanced away. Syl felt sudden sadness and fear as she realized why the news coverage had stopped. She touched Max's arm. "Nevermind, baby sister," she said softly. Max looked at her with sadness and relief, and Syl smiled softly at her before moving over to the table where the others were waiting. 

"What kind of resistance are we going to meet?" 

"Fortunately for us, most of the X-series has been deployed in various parts of the world," Lydecker answered. "There is a contingent of conventional soldiers..." He paused. "And a small security detail of X5s. About a dozen." 

Syl felt slight nausea and she glanced at Max, who seemed to be experiencing the same thing. "Not the kind of family reunion I was hoping for," Max said quietly. 

"With any luck, we'll be in and out before they even know we're there," Zack said reassuringly. 

Syl glanced down at the floor plan in front of her and narrowed her eyes. "Say we can breach the perimeter and get inside the building... how are we going to get in the lab and lay the charges?" She grabbed the map and looked at it with distaste. "This thing's a lockbox." She threw it across the table at Lydecker to make her point. 

"And I've got to figure when they put out the hit on you, they probably yanked your clearance," Max added, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Lydecker nodded, "Which is why I need to see a friend of mine before we go." Syl resisted the urge to roll her eyes and slid her gaze to Zack, who looked just as unimpressed with that suggestion. 

"You think we're just going to let you walk out of here and drop a dime on us?" Zack snapped. 

"If you don't trust me-" Lydecker began. 

"That's a given," Krit spat, cutting him off. 

"Then one of you should come with me," Lydecker finished. Immediately all four X5s became uneasy. Zack looked to Krit and Syl and then his eyes settled on Max. 

Her expression soured but she nodded and stood up, grabbing a gun as much as she hated to use them. "Let's go," she said to Lydecker. "Get this over with." She hauled him up and they went out the door, taking Krit and Syl's car. As soon as they were gone, Syl felt her irritability slipping away as she let her defenses down. She finally started enjoying sitting around with her brothers, and even Zack seemed happy that they were all together. 

"We should do this more often," Syl spoke up at one point, sliding a clip into one of her handguns and setting it down to pick up another. 

Zack sent her a sideways glance. "Maybe." She smirked. 

"So what's the deal with him?" Krit asked, gesturing toward the van, where Logan was working. Again Syl caught the darkening of Zack's eyes, the hardening of his jaw, but he just shrugged. 

"A friend of Max's." 

"You don't like him," Syl stated. "Why not?" 

"A friend?" Krit repeated when Zack didn't offer any response to Syl's question, his voice suspicious. "You mean her boyfriend." 

Zack glared at him, but he said, "Yeah, pretty much." 

"Is she in love with him?" Syl asked softly after a moment. 

"Yeah," Zack answered shortly. "Beats the hell out of me why though." At that, Krit and Syl exchanged a glance and there was silence for a few moments. 

"How long has he known about us?" Krit asked. 

"Too long," Zack growled. Then he got up and stalked off to go through some of his gear. 

"So," Krit said to Syl with a little smile. "I guess that topic's off-limits." 

Syl rolled her eyes. "You just don't know when to stop," she said, giving him a little tap on the nose as she picked up one of her guns and headed over to Zack. He glared up at her as she reached him, but she crouched down beside him and held up the gun. "I need a clip." 

He looked at the gun and then back to her. "She's going to compromise us all." 

"It's a 9mm," Syl answered. 

"Fixed sights?" Zack asked, glancing at the gun. 

"Yeah. Semi-automatic. Nice piece, but it's got a manual safety, sometimes I forget." 

"Hm," Zack answered, studying it. "Floating firing pin?" 

Syl nodded. "Yeah. It's a pretty good gun," she said. "I wouldn't have minded it in blue but Krit never buys anything but black. He got it for me back in Montana. You have anything I can use?" 

Zack searched through his bag and pulled out a clip, handing it to her. "Max is too reckless," he said. She slid the clip into the gun and smiled. 

"Perfect," she said, standing up. Zack stood with her. "Maybe she thinks he can be trusted?" At Zack's grunt, she smiled and added, "Well, supposedly she knows him pretty well is all I'm saying. She's probably told him all about keeping a low profile." 

Zack looked at her. "He's Eyes Only." 

Syl's eyebrows raised in surprise and she said, "Oh." 

"Yeah. So don't try to tell me he's not dangerous," Zack growled, and she decided to drop the subject immediately. It was a rare thing that Zack snapped at her. 

When she went back to the platform and sat down next to Krit, she noticed he was frowning at the gun in his hands. "What?" she asked. 

"The grip's loose." 

"There's an extra one in the second bag," she answered, grabbing the bag and searching through it. She found the grip and pushed it over as Zack headed back toward the platform. 

Syl heard the sound of an engine getting closer and then cutting out, and after a moment the warehouse doors opened. Max entered with Lydecker and a couple boxes of pizza. She walked up onto the platform, smiling at the others. "Chow down, my grunts," she said, setting the boxes down. "Mess is on." 

Zack got up and moved over to get a slice of pizza. "Everything taken care of?" he asked Max. Syl and Krit grabbed a few slices of pizza, glad for the food, as Max nodded, distaste crossing her features. "Yeah, we got what we went for." 

"Pepperoni and mushroom," Syl said softly as she took a bite. "That was Tinga's favourite." 

Max smiled a little at her. "Was it?" 

"Yeah..." There was a brief silence, then Syl asked, "Did you see Case, Maxie?" 

Max smiled. "Yeah, I did. He's beautiful." 

Syl nodded. "He is." 

"What exactly happened, Max?" Krit spoke up, his voice a bit angry. "Who's responsible?" 

Max frowned, glancing at Zack, who looked deeply troubled and very angry. "We don't really know..." 

Zack finished off his slice of pizza as Lydecker moved over to a place where he could talk to the four. They all leaned over the railing and Syl held in a smirk, liking being above him. "All right, people," he said. "Listen up. We've got a lot of work to do before we move out." 

Zack stopped him there. "Hang on. There's something we need to know." 

"Who murdered our sister?" Krit added tensely, taking the lead from Zack. Syl glanced at her hands, then slowly looked at Lydecker, preparing herself for his answer. 

Lydecker scowled, "The new director. Name's Renfro. She's a real... piece of work." 

"Why'd she do it?" Max asked with slight disgust in her voice. 

Lydecker hesitated momentarily, then shook his head. "I don't know." 

Syl let out a breath of disappointment and felt the same reaction from Krit next to her. Before any of them could speak she caught the sound of flapping wings from behind her. She turned quickly, scanning the air above her, and froze at what she saw. She tried to close her eyes against the bird, so like the one that day, the one she'd shot at but missed, the bullet hitting Bram, killing her little brother before he knew what hit him. And then Psy-ops... pain, fear... even now the thought of it made her heart race and her hands shake. 

Out of the corner of her vision Syl saw Zack raise his gun calmly at the bird. He missed purposely and it flew away, but the sound of the bullet snapped through Syl's trancelike state and she tore her eyes away from where the bird had been, hoping she wasn't too visably shaken. She exchanged a glance Krit as he asked with his eyes if she was okay, and she gave him a small smile. Max pushed away from the rail and walked down the steps. Syl watched as she went to Logan and as they left together her eyes quickly slid to Zack, who frowned and pushed away from the railing. "Come on, Krit," he said. "Let's go get that ammo." He tossed a gun to Syl. "Keep an eye on Lydecker." 

Syl nodded and watched Krit leave with Zack. She hopped off the platform and walked over to him, gesturing to a chair nearby. "Make yourself at home," she said to Lydecker with a wide, insincere smile. 

Lydecker looked up at Syl. "It's been a long time, 701." 

Syl's eyes darkened but otherwise her face stayed impassive. "Sit," she ordered. "And don't call me that." She folded her arms and leaned against the wall, staring at him coldly. 

Lydecker sat down slowly, studying her. "Something's bothering you." 

She forced herself to look at him, keeping her expression blank. "Yeah, you are." 

"A bit defensive, Syl?" 

She let out a little laugh without any humour in it and sneered. "You don't even know me." 

"Don't be so sure," he answered. "You'd be surprised how much I can read on your face. I know you. I made you." 

"Shut up," Syl growled, and she snapped her leg out, kicking him in the chest. The chair toppled, sending him sprawling to the ground. "Get up," she said, her voice dripping with disgust. Lydecker picked himself up and righted the chair; it bothered her how calm he was. It bothered her even more when his smile came back, as though nothing had happened. 

"Did that make you feel better?" 

"No," she answered honestly. 

"Not even a little? Fighting's in your blood." 

"A lot of things are in my blood," she growled. "And I thought I told you to shut up." He didn't say anything for a few moments. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind, but then he spoke again. "Do you and Krit have any children?" Syl couldn't stop a little pang of distress and she averted her eyes from him. But he caught it anyway, leaned forward a little. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. Touched her arm. 

Syl dropped him so fast his hand was still shaped to hold her arm when he hit the ground. She blurred to his head and pressed her foot into his windpipe, holding the gun on him. "Don't. Touch. Me," she growled, the words evenly spaced by more and more pressure to his neck. Both the way his eyes widened and the little gurgling sound he let out made her feel a little better. She let him up, going back to the wall and leaning against it again, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"It doesn't have to be so hard," Lydecker said. "You could come home." 

"You _really_ need to shut up." 

"I know how it hurts, Syl," he said quietly. "Brin returning to Manticore, what happened to Ben and Tinga..." 

She glared at Lydecker. "You took them away." 

"No," he answered. "I brought them home." 

"Manticore is _not_ home," she said through gritted teeth. "Do you think we would have run away if it was home? If you had your way we'd be back there in chains." 

Lydecker shook his head slowly. "You'd be doing what you were born and trained to do. You'd all be safe and alive. It wouldn't hurt like this, Syl." 

"What are you trying to prove?" she growled. "That Manticore was some happy wonderland where we all lived in bliss?" 

He didn't answer. Waited. 

"You know what I remember about Manticore?" she hissed. "I remember Eva. I remember Dar. I remember Jack. Bram. Tali. Cade." At each name Lydecker looked more and more remorseful, and that made her more and more angry. "And you know what else I remember? _You._ You at the other end of the gun, you with the stopwatch drowning the ones who weren't good enough, you watching me getting dragged half-dead out of Psy-ops, you-" 

"I was so proud of you," Lydecker cut in. "It made you so much stronger." 

He went down again and she was on top of him before he had a chance to blink, her hand gripping his shirt, the gun shoved into his mouth. "I was eight years old," she growled. "Eight years old, scared as hell, and you took me and you punished me for two months for something that was an accident. You think I came out of there _stronger?"_

"Syl," Zack's sharp voice came. She looked up and he was standing in the doorway of the warehouse with Krit. She let go of Lydecker's shirt, shoving his head into the concrete floor, and she removed the gun from his mouth and stood up, shoving it into her belt. Zack walked over to her and he hauled Lydecker up and dropped him roughly into a chair, where he watched them with a gaze that made Syl's skin crawl, something between pride and smug recognition. Zack's hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed. She met his eyes, her own full of apology, but he just gave her a tense but understanding smile. 

"Max and Logan should be back soon," he said softly. "We'll be moving out then. Go finish getting your gear ready." 

"Okay," she said, thankfully leaving Lydecker and going with Krit back to the table. She felt Krit's hand slip into hers and though she didn't acknowledge it, she also didn't let it go.   



	39. Chapter 38

_Zack signalled Syl and Jondy to head east and they moved off together, not speaking, taking comfort in each other's presence as they walked through the forest, holding tightly to their guns and scanning the foliage for their target. In the distance they heard gunfire but ignored it, it wasn't their concern, though Syl hoped briefly that everyone else was okay. She signalled Jondy to cover her as she shimmied down a sharp incline, and then Jondy was tumbling down after her, coming to a landing on her feet beside her, gun held ready. They heard the sound of a twig breaking and both turned quickly in that direction, dropping for cover. When the sounds continued but nothing happened, Syl slowly rose to her feet and walked toward it cautiously. After a moment she signalled Jondy to follow her. _

A mouse was struggling on the ground, trying to stand and run away, but its leg had been crushed by something, and as the girls approached the mouse grew more and more panicked. They could see its chest rising and falling at incredible speed as its heart pounded in fear. Jondy knelt to get a better look and watched the mouse for a few moments. 

"We have to move out," Syl told her. Jondy glanced up, then nodded, starting to stand again. She hesitated. 

"It's hurt." 

Syl's eyes slid uneasily to the mouse. "There's nothing we can do. Move out, soldier." 

"Yes, ma'am," Jondy answered immediately, picking up her machine gun and standing up again. They started to walk away, avoiding a large puddle from a rainfall the night before, but then Jondy stopped and turned back. 

"210!" Syl yelled as she ran back to the mouse, cradling the creature very gently in her hands. Its eyes were wide with fear, the leg's angle looking incredibly painful to Syl. Jondy ignored her, walking past her and dropping to her knees in front of the puddle. She tightened her hands around the mouse and in one calm movement submerged them, waiting as the thing slowly began to stop struggling, and finally laid still. Syl heard Jondy's soft sobs and she put her gun down. She knelt down just behind Jondy and pulled her into a hug, letting her cry into her shoulder. 

"Shh, baby sister," she murmured. "Shh." 

Jondy looked up at Syl with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Can we bury it?" 

"Of course," Syl answered after a moment, caressing her hand over Jondy's half-inch of blonde hair. "Let's find a pretty place." 

  
"Syl," Zack's voice cut through the dream and her eyes opened. It was strange, dreaming of something that happened at Manticore and then waking up in camos, her arms loosely wrapped around a machine gun. "We're here," Zack told her gently, and instantly she became nervous. She jumped down from the van with the others, her eyes scanning her surroundings. Darkness. Trees whose familiarity in her perfect memory was haunting. 

  
_Shadows chased across the bark as they padded through the foliage, not making a sound. It would be dark soon, but being afraid of darkness was as foreign to Syl as ice cream or hopscotch. The forest dipped in and out of gullies and hills, ridges and small vallies. There was one place where a stream cut through the landscape during the winter. But now it was summer, warm outside, even as night started to fall. They were walking along the ridge that overlooks the streambed, Jondy in front right behind Eva. They were on duty but it didn't feel like it so much. Quin, Jack, and Tali were behind Jondy, and Syl could hear Cade and Lia's footsteps behind her, feel their closeness in a way that requires no effort or conscious thought. _

Jondy turned back to Quin, smiled. She jumped up on one of the boulders, toeing the edge, daring her sister with her eyes. Quin was right behind her, leaping gracefully from rock to rock, her feet searching for crevices like it was second nature. She was always the first one on the roof. Jack hung back a little, scared. He didn't want to risk it, being cautious as always. 

But Tali followed right behind the others, hopping up on the closest rock, smiling at her sisters as she teased them with a step to the left, a feigned stumble to the right. Eva was up ahead, ordering them all to hurry, to stop playing around. But children need to play, and even Manticore couldn't edit that out. 

Tali ignored Eva and hopped, trying to outdo her sisters. She swayed a little, and Syl looked up just in time to see her stop teetering and start falling, the stones she's placed her feet on coming loose and sliding, betraying her. Jondy's hand reached out but it closed around air, a split-second too late. Tali didn't scream as she fell, she just calmly tucked into a roll so she'd come up standing. 

They all paused to watch her fall, they all saw the gun catch on a tree and throw out her landing, saw her hands flail as she twisted and kept falling, saw her mouth open as she hit the ground. They all saw her cough, saw her eyes open wide in surprise, and they all saw the tiny, bloodied point of jagged rock showing through her camos, poking straight out from her thin chest. 

After a moment of shocked disbelief they took off running together, and Jondy was at her side just before Syl. All her life Tali had the most beautiful eyes, the colour of burnt amber, but now they weren't shining, they weren't bright, they were just a dull, dull orange. A light gone out forever. 

  
Syl felt a chill and she shook the memory away forcefully, tearing her eyes away from the forest to focus on Zack. He handed them all earpieces and then pulled out the map, spreading it out in front of them as they gathered around it. Syl adjusted her earpiece as he spoke. 

"Syl and Krit will proceed via service corridor four-alpha to the main and auxiliary generators and set charges." As he explained the gameplan, he traced their route across the map. Syl watched, memorizing it all. "Max and I will take the basement to the east air shaft and proceed to the DNA lab. At 0430 we lay charges. By 0440 the firing sequence will commence." 

"We'll detonate the charges from here," Lydecker added. Syl's eyes slid to him as he spoke, and for the first time she felt no annoyance toward him whatsoever. That's when she realized how deeply in mission-mode she really was, and she felt both frightened and comforted by that fact. 

"I'm in," Logan spoke up from inside the van, and they all looked up to him. "I've accessed the internal surveillance system. I'm copying loops into each camera feed so they won't be able to see you, but we will. So we can monitor you, steer you around any obstacles." Syl thought about that for a moment, imaging all the different types of 'obstacles' there could be... conventional soldiers, other X-series, even X5s- Syl froze. Brin. 

"We rendez-vous here by 0448," Zack said. "Questions?" 

Syl quickly looked up. "What happens if we run into Brin in there?" 

"She'll kill you without a second thought," Lydecker answered immediately. "The sister that you knew doesn't exist anymore- she's dead." Syl felt a deep pang in her heart but fought it down. 

"No she isn't," Max hissed. "She's alive. And that means we still have a chance to get her back." Syl looked to Zack, who wasn't arguing or agreeing with what Max said. The thought of Brin being brainwashed to work against obviously unsettled them all. 

"Here's your clearance to the lab," Lydecker said, handing a small container to Zack. He took it and turned to Syl and Krit. 

"You know what you have to do," he said simply. "Move out." Krit and Syl rose with Zack, and Max followed a few moments later. Syl felt the soft soil under her feet as she moved closer and closer to the place where she'd been born, the place she'd swore never to come back to. 

  
_Marching in hallways, morning drills, dinner in the mess hall, guards watching, always watching. Maps flashed in front of her, targets named, orders given, training, weapons, bullets and hand-to-hand combat. A brother not progressing in his training for weeks, being gone one day without explanation. A sister having screaming nightmares after her first live fire drill and coming out of Psy-ops with haunted eyes. Psy-ops... a place with too many memories but not nearly enough for how much time Syl spent there. The fear of the tests, fear of doctors, fear of Lydecker and bright lights. Fear of everything and everyone who didn't love her._

  
They stepped through the foliage and suddenly Manticore was in front of them, its grey walls and sweeping searchlights as familiar as they were frightening. Syl's heartbeat quickened immediately, and she couldn't help but stop just to look. For a long moment, all four of them just stood there in silence, staring at the place. Syl didn't bother looking at her siblings, knowing their expressions would match hers, knowing that they were being assaulted by memories too. 

  
_Tali hitting the ground, the blood sputtering out of her mouth, the rock impaling her through the chest and her eyes open, lifeless, to a starless sky. The sound her body made when they lifted her up. The blood that was still on the rock the next day, and the way Syl felt nothing when she looked at it. _

  
Ben's stories, his smiles, Jondy's giggles with Max late at night. Zack's reassurances in the dark, Zane's goodnights, the day Jack seized and never came back from the medical bay. Eva's head snapping back and her blood hitting the walls and the floor and her siblings in the hall. 

  
Seeing Bram fall, knowing he died by her hand. The tricks they played on her in Psy-ops, the memories she has that can't be backed up, the one she's not even sure are real. Her first heat, how scared she was, having her daughter, the pain of labour and delivery, the greater pain of having nothing in her arms afterward. The guilt of all of it, Zack's forgiveness, the way he watched her sleep, the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking back. 

  
Zane's simple sweetness, Krit's arms warm around her, Max's soft smile and the shadows in Jondy's eyes when she doesn't know you're watching her. Brin's laugh, Tinga's smile, the way they talked about their lives, the way they really fit in out here, the way they were really happy to be outside. 

  
"This is for Tinga," Max's calm voice broke through Syl's reverie. Syl's hands tightened around her machine gun and then they took off together, clearing the fence in one leap. It was so easy at this size, not like how it had been when they were kids, running to the fence, hitting it head-on, climbing up as fast as they could but being unavoidably vulnerable for a good thirty seconds. But at this age, she was over the fence with its curling barbed wire in the blink of an eye and back where everything started, where her life began. 

They split off from Zack and Max right away to get to the different destinations. Syl turned her head as she ran with Krit toward the building just in time to catch Zack slipping through the door. For a moment she felt anxiety at being apart from him again, after he'd been lost for so many weeks, but she took comfort in his promise. After this mission was over, she would live with him for a while again, and things would be better. After this mission was over, everything would change. 

Syl smiled a little and followed Krit into the basement of Manticore, thankfully separate from the part that held transgenic mistakes, what Ben and her other siblings had naïvely called nomlies before they'd really understood. 

  
_"Do you still believe, Syl?" _

When she looked at him, his eyes were dark in a way that was both colour and shadow. When she shook her head, he frowned. His face became confused, perturbed. A little boy's face. She turned back to the paper she had and kept folding, finishing a flower and moving onto a crane. 

"Teach me?" Ben asked, putting his hand on her arm. The baby gave a small kick and she jumped a little, so he withdrew his hand slowly. "Why don't you believe?" 

"She isn't real." Fold, flip over, fold, fold, done. A fish. "She never was." 

"She's real," he snapped back. 

Fold, fold, flip over, crease, fold, crease again, fold. Done. Another flower. "No." Zack returned and set down a bag of Chinese food, and they all dug in. 

"Zack, Syl doesn't believe in the Blue Lady anymore," Ben said. Syl slid her eyes to Zack, wondering if he'd respond. But he hadn't said anything since North Dakota, and she wasn't surprised when he just chewed, swallowed, and grabbed another mouthful. 

"We'll be in Detroit tomorrow morning," Syl said. 

"I don't want to live in Detroit," Ben answered with a grimace. Zack stood up and Syl stood with him. They headed back to the car, Ben following along, dragging his feet a little. Syl heard him say a soft prayer for her, but Zack's hand closed on her wrist before she could react. She relaxed and Zack released her. They would be in Detroit soon and once Ben was gone, things would go back to normal. 

  
Only Ben never had understood, even after they'd escaped, after everything he'd seen and learned, it had only gotten worse for him. 

"Syl," Krit whispered to her. "You alright?" 

She nodded. "Fine," she said, shaking away her thoughts. "Just..." She trailed off but Krit smiled a little, tensely. 

"I know," he said, then quickened his pace. Syl followed him, keeping close, her machine gun ready for anything. Always in the back of her mind was the thought that it was Lydecker and a man who Zack didn't trust who were, essentially, were watching her back. And that made her very uneasy. Adding in the narrow service corridor with its slick, pipe-laden walls and the low, bright ceiling lamps, this entire exercise made her very uneasy. She wondered if Max and Zack were having a similar experience, and secretly wished she'd been able to go with Zack instead of Max, even though the thought of seeing the lab where they had all been created, where samples of their DNA were most likely still kept, unnerved her. Anything that reminded her that she was the creation of other people made her both angry and very afraid. She made a mental note to ask Zack later what it was like to be standing there, a place that stood for everything they hated but that was also, cruelly, responsible for their very existence. 

"Proceeding south to corridor four-alpha," Krit announced, breaking through her thoughts. 

"You're clear all the way to the generator," Logan's voice crackled in their ears. 

"Copy that," Krit answered. 

After a moment Logan's voice came back, "I got you, Max." And then, "You're clear." Syl breathed an inward sigh of relief as her heartbeat quickened once again. It looked like this was going to go smoothly, they'd make it in and out without incident, just like Zack had hoped. 

They entered the generator and immediately went to work; it was 0427, they were ahead of schedule, but they still moved quickly. Syl knew Krit wanted to be out of there as fast as she did. 

"Okay," Logan's tense but relieved voice came over the comm as Syl was laying the last of ther charges. "Get out of there." Syl looked to Krit and he was heading for the door. She set down her last explosive and followed him. 

"We've got an alarm," Lydecker's voice suddenly came over the comm. "Withdraw to the perimetre. Withdraw to the perimetre. We've been made. All units, withdraw." 

"Copy that," Krit answered immediately as they picked up the pace as they listened to Logan and Lydecker's exchange. 

"This is not good," Lydecker said. "Hack into the control panel at corridor seven alpha. We've got to lock down ward c-16." 

"Why?" Logan's voice came. "What's wrong?" 

"Must've been a last-minute change in deployment." Lydecker's voice was calm, but hurried, and it unnerved Syl. "There's still a contingent of X7s in the building." Krit turned and gave her a look full of questions, but she just shook her head; the X7s had been toddlers when they'd run away, she had no idea what they were capable of. 

"They're just kids," she heard Logan say. She was surprised that after knowing Max he could say something like that, but she held her tongue to hear Lydecker's response. 

"They're stronger, faster, and designed with hive minds. We don't want our people tangling with them." At that, Krit immediately increased his pace, and Syl ran after him, giving him a reassuring look as he glanced backward to make sure she was close, even though inside she was terrified. They hit a t-junction and stopped, flattening themselves against the wall and waiting for clearance to continue. 

"Syl, Krit," Logan's voice came a moment later. "Unfriendlies behind you. 25 metres and closing." 

"Take them out," Lydecker ordered immediately, and they jumped out from the corridor, firing into the narrow hallway. The men rocked with the impact of the bullets, but Syl was running again barely before she saw them hit the ground. Again Krit looked over his shoulder as they ran, making sure, and she gave him another reassuring look, wishing he'd stop doing that. It was much too familiar and familiarity was something she had too much of right now. 

  
_He turned his head, checking to make sure she was there, the third time in ten minutes. She gave him a disgruntled look, wishing he'd keep his head forward, warning him against letting his guard down. He turned around again, they walked for another ten minutes. He glanced backward again and she couldn't hold in an exasperated sigh, making her footsteps more deliberate, hoping that would stop him from making sure she was there every thirty seconds. He looked at her with his dark eyes, the little brother she'd always sworn to protect, the one she was paired with most often because they worked well together. He smiled a thanks at her, his stride relaxing now that he knew she was there, and Syl's heart gave a little flutter. She smiled back._

  
"It's Brin," Lydecker's voice cut through the memory. Syl's heart froze. "She's headed for the lab." 

There was a long pause, and then Logan said with resignation in his voice, "Back the way you came, first corridor on your left." Syl knew then that Max had gone back for their sister; she just hoped Max could reason with her in time. She checked her watch- 0436. According to Zack's schedule, she had just under four minutes to clear the building before they'd detonate those charges. But Logan was in charge, and Syl knew he wouldn't let them go off with Max inside. She warred with her conflicting emotions as she and Krit hit the doors, clearing the fence and running through the woods toward the perimetre like they had when they were kids... _the fence, the fence, I have to get us to the fence!_ Again with Krit, again not knowing where her siblings were or if they were okay, again with Manticore's soldiers after her, she ran flat-out for freedom and escape. 

"She's clear," Logan's voice came moments later, and Syl breathed an inward sigh of relief. "Detonate." She waited for the explosion, but instead Logan spoke again, more harshly, "I said she's clear." 

"Lydecker," Krit growled as they ran. 

"Do it. Now," Logan said firmly. Behind them, the building erupted in flame and shattering glass, but Syl didn't bother to turn around. She just kept running with Krit for safety, a mirror of herself at ten. 

"Max, where are you?" Logan asked over the comm. Then, "Zack, talk to me." When he immediately moved on to request her and Krit's location, Syl knew the others were alright. 

"Closing on your position," Krit told Logan, and Syl could hear the relief in his voice too. "ETA is momentary." 

A bullet ripped by Syl's head and they both hit the ground, pressing themselves into the foliage. They came up behind a small grove of trees as Syl's eyes searched the forest for their assailant. 

"There!" Krit yelled, already bringing his machine gun around. He fired a spread into the trees but Syl didn't see anyone. Then she heard the snap of twigs and some bushes rustled. Krit ran to the spot and she followed. He came around a large tree and held his machine gun on the soldier he'd hit. 

An X7, maybe twelve years old. Syl's breath caught but she forced her reaction back, didn't call the child Jondy, knew what this was. The girl was choking on blood, several of Krit's bullets having ripped through her chest and neck, cutting off her oxygen. Krit's eyes scanned the treeline as Syl dropped beside the girl and disarmed her. She lay there coughing, looking up at them, eyes wide even for Jondy, full of fear. 

"It's okay," Syl found herself saying, her voice soft. She laid her hand against the girl's neck, but stopping the bleeding would be impossible and she'd already lost too much. The girl stared up at her, coughing, dying, the light fading from her eyes. "It's okay," Syl said again, keeping her voice soft, soothing. The X7 sputtered a few more times and then her body stilled. When she died her eyes stayed open, staring, too much like Jondy's. Syl gazed at her, the mirror image of a sister who she'd never really gotten along with, but who she hadn't seen in weeks and who she missed deeply. She reached out slowly and closed the girl's eyes, and then stood up again, turning to Krit, who had a pained but determined expression on his face. 

"There'll be more," he said. "Come on." They ran, heading uphill toward where they knew the road was, where the others would be waiting. They both shot several more times into the trees, but they didn't stop long enough to see anymore of the X7s die or even go down. Krit grabbed her arm as she reached the top of the rise, and she hit the ground hard, bushes obscuring whatever Krit had seen. She moved so she could follow his gaze, and froze at what she saw. 

Zane, Mina, Pip, Tosh... they were all there. Zack's clone too, about fourteen, his face at an age that Syl remembered well from when she'd been living with him. But that's not what scared her; the X7 of Zack was holding a gun on someone, and when Mina's clone moved aside, she saw with horror who it was. 

"Z-" she started to yell, preparing to open fire and run down the hill to help, but Krit's arms wrapped around her, one hand closing over her mouth and cutting off the scream. Syl watched as Max's clone joined the others, and she kicked against Krit, trying to free herself. 

"Don't Syl, don't," he hissed into her ear, his voice urgent. "There's a dozen of them and only two of us." 

She bit his hand hard enough to draw blood and growled, "Three." 

"No, Syl," he said firmly, his voice both pleading and sorrowful. She tried to fight with him again, but he was much bigger than her and she couldn't get him off. Deep inside, she knew he was right. And as more and more X7s joined the others, she knew running down there wouldn't accomplish anything but getting herself recaptured or killed. For a moment she considered doing it anyway, but she couldn't make herself struggle enough, and Krit's grip on her was too tight. When the X7s pulled Zack up and dragged him toward the compound, with him fighting the whole way, they dragged all her reassurances and comforts with him. Only running with Krit toward the van and trying to stay out of the line of fire kept her from completely panicking. 

Seeing Logan, laid out dead or unconcious in the back of the van, was her first clue that something was wrong. "They got Zack," Krit quickly announced. 

"And Max?" Syl asked when she didn't see her sister. 

"KIA," Lydecker said, his voice heavy and sad. "Let's move out." He turned away from them to get into the driver's seat, and they both just stood there for several moments in shock. Syl fought hard to keep her footing, and then she looked at Krit and saw her own fear and grief mirrored in his eyes. He put a hand out to steady her, nudged her into the van as the engine started, and then pulled her into his arms. She let him hold her because she knew it would comfort him, but it made no difference to her. She didn't feel anything and she couldn't seem to make herself feel anything. She just stared at Logan's unconcious form as they drove away from Manticore and forced herself not to think, not to feel, and not to remember a thing.   



	40. Chapter 39

Syl rested her eyes just above the words in the book she was reading, watching a girl of about six years old play on the swings. She was off to the side from the other kids on the playground, keeping to herself, watching the others with both caution and at the same time disinterest. Like she didn't really want to play with them, but if she was invited she might say yes just to see what would happen. Syl smiled. She liked watching kids play, finding it fascinating in a way she couldn't quite explain or understand. 

"Try flipping the pages, it makes reading go a lot faster," a voice came from behind Syl. She jumped, her book falling to the ground as she slid off the bench and turned to face the speaker in one fluid motion, startled that she hadn't heard anyone approach. A latino woman a year or so older than Syl was leaning against a nearby tree, her arms crossed over her chest, one leg propped against the trunk. Dark glasses were lowered just enough on her nose so that Syl could barely make eye contact, and there was a wide smirk on her lips. 

  
_Memories formed like thought-images at this age, feelings and emotions captured moment by moment. Syl felt the cool cement with her bare toes and it formed her steps to the crayon box, a rainbow of greens and browns and blues. A hand reached for the forest green just as hers did. She needed it to colour in the woods around the target area drawn out on her paper. Her fingers closed around the crayon and she pulled, letting out a squeal of indignation. Eva pulled back, laying her hand flat against Syl's cheek and pushing her head back, sliding a foot around behind Syl's ankle to drop her to the ground. The jolt to her body let Syl know that she had fallen, and triumphant, crayon in hand, Eva walked back over to her paper. Humiliated, the anger filling her little body until her hands shook, Syl's lip trembled and then she was crying, slamming her fists into the floor. _

After a few moments, a firm hand stilled her tantrum. Rich brown skin, delicate but strong, the fingers closed around Syl's shoulder and pulled her gently up to a sitting position. Van held out her own forest green crayon, closing it into Syl's palm and melting away her anger with her calm brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. She picked up Syl's paper and, taking Syl by the hand, walked back over to her own paper. She sat Syl down next to her and kept her close, sharing her own box of crayons. Lab techs made notes; Syl copied Van's picture and grinned. 

  
Syl reached down and picked up her book, sliding it into her pocket as she relaxed. "It's not the book I'm interested in, Van," she said with a shrug, letting a smile slide over her lips as she closed the distance between them. She reached out and put her arms around her sister, giving her a warm hug. 

Van turned her head and scanned her eyes over the children, then looked back to Syl. "You planning to kidnap one, or can we get out of here?" 

Syl rolled her eyes but kept the smile. "I walked." 

"I drove," Van answered. "This way." She turned and headed back toward the street, leading Syl to a silver import sedan, pre-Pulse but in great condition. 

"I'm glad I walked," Syl said, raising an eyebrow in appreciation. "This is so much better than my car." 

"I know," Van answered, unlocking the doors. They both slid in and shut their doors. "I swung by your place and followed you here. Your car's a piece of shit." 

"How long have you been watching me?" 

Van shrugged and started the car, pulling out into the street. She starting heading toward Syl's apartment, pulling a mix CD from her visor, mostly pre-Pulse rap and heavy rock, some metal. Syl smiled at her sister as they drove, and it wasn't long before Van slid her eyes sideways. "What?" 

"Nothing," Syl answered, her smile widening a little as she turned her eyes back out the window. A long silence passed between them, not uncomfortable. After five minutes or so, Syl looked back to Van. "It's been a while." 

"Yup." 

"Why now?" 

"Why do you think?" 

"Zack?" 

Van nodded. "I would have been here sooner but I couldn't find you. I have to say I'm impressed at you, crossing the Canadian border. But you could have called." 

"I didn't really have anything on me, it was kind of an impulsive decision." Syl's eyes followed the yellow line on the road in front of them, counting cat's eyes. 

Van's hand found Syl's hair and threaded through it affectionately. "I know." 

Syl turned to her sister and asked quietly, "Do you know where he is?" 

"At Manticore." 

"Is he okay?" 

There was a long silence. "Define okay." Syl closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. "He's alive," Van reassured her. "Manticore's started up a new department. Experimenting with cybornetic implants and biosynthetic organs." 

Syl's eyes went wide and then her mouth twisted into an expression of disgust. "You're saying they turned him into some kind of machine?" 

"To some extent. The bullet fucked up the memory centres of his brain, so they put in an implant to let him make new memories. They reconstructed that side of his face with metal plates and an ocular implant." As Van spoke, her expression and voice got increasingly darker. "He had some nerve damage in his right arm, so they fitted it with an exoskeleton." 

"God," Syl whispered. She swallowed hard. "Did you see him?" 

Van shook her head as she pulled the car into the visitor parking of Syl's building. "Being at Manticore was dangerous enough before you went on that mission with Deck. I cleared out of there when Zack called me to let me know what you were planning to do. So officially, Manticore's videographer has defected or just disappeared, but they've got a lot more important things to worry about right now thanks to you." She smiled a half-smile, then it faded and she scowled. "Never thought Zack would get caught though- I considered it as a worst-case scenario of course, I had to, but I never seriously thought it would happen." They got out of the car and headed inside as Syl nodded. "Me neither." 

After they were seated on Syl's couch, she gathered her thoughts and asked a question she didn't want to. "So… does that mean he's… turned?" The word was difficult to get out at all, especially in reference to Zack. She blinked back tears and added in a whisper, "Or is there even enough left of him now to turn?" 

"He's not turned," Van answered. "He doesn't know who he is." 

"Will he remember?" 

"I think so," she answered, and there was another silence. 

"You came here to tell me this?" Syl asked. At Van's nod, she said softly, "Thanks. I wouldn't have wanted to hear this on the phone." 

"I also came to check up on you," Van said, after giving a little nod of agreement. "He told me if shit went down with that mission, I was to take over his duties." She caught Syl's expression and continued firmly, "Temporarily." 

Syl relaxed a little while her mind predicted what Van was probably going to do in this situation. "You're going to move everybody? Change the phone numbers?" 

"Just in case," Van agreed. She fixed Syl with a searching look. "I also have an assignment for you. Actually, two." 

Syl raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Okay…" 

"One we'll hold off on for now," Van said. "But when we find Zack again, I'm going to need you to work on rebuilding his memory. You know him the best out of all of us as a person and not a soldier, so I'm going to put you in charge of that." 

Syl nodded seriously. "Of course." 

"The other request is something I'm going to need from you until Zack is back, if he's able to resume his duties at that time," Van said. She cleared her throat. "I want you to be my 2IC." 

Syl stared at her in shock. Finally she managed to get out one word, "Me?" 

"Why not?" Van countered with a shrug. "You've seen everyone since the escape and you lived with Zack for a few years, so you know better than anyone else what our rules are and how this family works." Syl couldn't argue with Van's logic, but the request made her feel anxious. What if she couldn't do it? "You don't have to decide now," Van went on. "I'm heading to Jon's in about an hour to sort her out. I'm going to need a decision by the time I get back. And then either I'll find you a new place, or I'll get you set up with what you need to help me look after everyone. Sound good?" 

"Yeah… great…" Syl was still a little shocked. 

Van reached out and clapped her hand on Syl's shoulder. "We need to get some food so I can fuel up before I move out." 

"I'll order Chinese." Syl stood up and headed to the phone. 

"Hey," Van called her back. She paused from flipping through the phone book and looked over at her sister. "This is your call, got it? I'm not going to be upset or angry or any shit like that if you say no." 

Syl smiled. "Okay Vannie." 

Van leaned her head back in Syl's sofa and threaded her hands behind it, propping her feet up on Syl's coffee table. "And none of that chow mein bullshit. You know what that means? 'Leftover food.' No thanks, _mamasita."_ Syl chuckled as she dialled the number. She placed an order for sweet and sour chicken, teriyaki beef, egg rolls and two cups of won ton soup, then returned to the sofa to sit next to Van. They ate mostly in silence, but with Van Syl never found silences particularly uncomfortable. 

"Are you sure you won't stay for the night before heading down to Jondy's?" 

"Yup," Van answered as she cleared away the paper boxes and chopsticks, tossing them into the garbage can. "I have to leave now if want to be over the border and back by tomorrow." She glanced at her watch. "Just after noon. That should be enough time to move Jondy and be here before too late," she said, heading to Syl's door. "You have a cell phone?" she asked. Syl nodded and Van rattled off a number. "That's my direct line. You need to get ahold of me, call that one, don't bother with the contact number." 

"Thanks, Vannie." Syl gave her sister a small hug, which Van tolerated. "See you tonight." 

"Yup," Van said. 

"I love you." 

"You too, little sister," she answered, and then closed the door behind her, leaving Syl alone in her apartment, trying to sort out her thoughts. 

  
It was night when Syl heard a knock on her door. She pulled it open to reveal Van standing on the doorstep, Jondy coming down the hall behind her. Syl smiled and reached past Van to hug her little sister. "Hey Jondy," she said warmly. "It's been a while." "Yeah, I sorta lost track of everybody for a while after the broadcast," Jondy said, stepping into Syl's apartment with Van. She collapsed onto Syl's couch and Van pulled over a dining room chair, pulling off her sunglasses before Syl could start pestering her about them. 

"I'm moving Jondy to Nevada," Van told her. "Just until things settle down with the Zack situation. Then we can see about getting everyone closer together again. I've already set Zane up in Idaho, and I've let Tosh and Grix stay put for now. Krit's in Montana." 

Syl acknowledged the information with a nod. "How long are you two staying?" 

"Till tomorrow," Van said. "There's a place in Arizona waiting for you if you want it." 

Slowly Syl shook her head. "I want to go with you," she said. 

Van nodded. "Good." She stood up. "We should get some sleep." 

"There's the couch or the bed," Syl told her. 

"I'll take the bed," Van said, "since Jondy's probably going to be noisy as hell all night out here." 

Jondy rolled her eyes as Van left. "Is it my fault I don't sleep?" she asked Syl, then surveyed the small apartment. "So what is there to do around here?" 

Syl smiled at her. "Not much," she said. "And I'm going to sleep pretty soon too." 

Jondy made a face. "Do you at least have a tv?" she asked. "If I'm going to be bored senseless all night I might as well watch some cartoons or something." 

Syl gestured to an empty entertainment centre on the wall, which was filled mostly with books. "Does it look like I have a tv?" She stood up and ruffled Jondy's hair. "Night baby sister." She could feel Jondy gaping after her indignantly, but she was tired. She closed her bedroom door behind her and climbed into bed with Van, who looked like she was already asleep. 

"Goodnight Vannie," Syl whispered as she closed her eyes. 

"Night Syl," Van answered. 

Syl smiled at her back. "I love you." 

"Yeah, yeah, you too. Go to sleep." 

Syl's smile widened and she cuddled into Van's back, and closed her eyes. 

  
_She could hear them talking in the living room. Van had arrived less than an hour ago, and had been told that Syl was in the single bedroom of the hotel room, sleeping. In fact she was standing in the darkness of the cracked door, listening to their conversation and watching their movements. _

"She's had a hard time," Zack was saying. 

Van nodded. "That's nothing new." 

"This time it is." 

"How so?" 

Zack gave her a hard look. "How do you think?" 

Van scowled at him. "I don't know what the fuck you mean." By way of an answer, Zack pulled out his cell phone and started checking his messages. After a moment Van spoke again, "Okay so I have an idea. How bad exactly?" 

"Bad," Zack said shortly, glancing up at her as he clicked off his cell phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. 

"Did you kill the guy?" she asked next. Zack gave a little shrug and Van lifted an eyebrow behind her dark glasses. "Why didn't you?" 

"She needed to get out of there right away." 

"Two seconds is all it would have taken," Van pointed out, and Zack looked over at her. "I'm sure you wanted to." 

Zack stood up and crossed the room to the window. "I never said I didn't." 

Van stood up as well. "I'm going to go talk to her." 

Zack half-turned toward her and gave her a long look. He nodded. "Good." Van spun on her heel and started walking toward the bedroom. Syl noiselessly withdrew from the door and climbed between the sheets, closing her eyes and feigning sleep. She heard Van enter and stand in the doorway for a few moments, then her sister pushed away from the doorframe and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

"Hear anything good?" she asked. Syl remained completely quiet, her eyes closed, her body limp, her breathing regular. Van reached out and gave her a gentle nudge in the ribs. "I know you're awake." 

Syl opened her eyes. "Hi." 

"Hi." 

Syl studied her hands. So many lines, a kid in a group home once told her they meant something but she didn't believe him. "Do you think the lines on our hands mean something?" 

Van laid down on the bed on top of the blankets and threaded her hands behind her head. "That's a weird fucking question." 

Syl shrugged. "Just wondering." 

"I don't care if they mean anything." 

A little smile touched Syl's lips. "But do you think they do?" 

"No." 

Syl looked down at her hands again, then back to Van. "Why are you wearing those?" she asked, touching the edge of Van's sunglasses in the soft light. "It's dark." Van gave a half-shrug. "I like them." 

"I don't. It makes it hard to see your eyes. Makes me think you're dangerous." 

"That's the idea," Van said, allowing a bit of humour to enter her voice. 

Syl's eyes dropped again. "I don't want to feel like you're dangerous, Vannie." 

There was a long pause and then Van pulled the sunglasses off her face and folded them onto the bed between them. Syl picked them up and traced her fingers along their edges, around and around. 

"You haven't called me that in a while." 

Syl's eyes met Van's and for the first time she smiled, just a little. "I haven't seen you in a while." 

"I know," Van said. "I'm sorry about that, I wish we'd found you sooner." 

They lost eye contact. "It wasn't your fault." 

"Doesn't mean I can't wish it had been different." 

"Maybe," Syl answered quietly. Her forehead sprouted with concern lines as she frowned. "Do I have to go back?" 

They locked eyes. "No. You don't have to go anywhere you don't want to go." After a brief pause in which Syl relaxed significantly, Van added, "You look good." 

"You too," Syl whispered. 

"Your hair grew out nice." 

"You too." 

"You turned out shorter than I would have thought." 

Syl allowed a tiny smile. "You too." 

Van chuckled slightly. "Yeah, well, fuck Manticore for screwing us out of the tall genes." Syl glanced at the bedspread and felt the sheets slide between her fingertips. "Yeah." She felt Van reach out and touch her chin, tilting it up. Gentle but firm at the same time, like Zack. Syl allowed her sister to look into her bruised face, allowed her to gaze deeply into her eyes that had only darkened after Manticore, and Syl didn't turn away. "Keep your head up," Van said in that same gentle but firm way. "No sister of mine ever needs to be ashamed of anything, comprende?" 

Syl answered, "I love you." 

"You too, little sister," Van said. After a moment's silence she added, "I don't say it. Just so you know." 

Syl looked up. "Don't say what?" 

"I love you." 

"I love you too." And Syl grinned. 

"Punk," Van said, unable to force back the smirk or the grudging respect that appeared in her eyes under the overwhelming love and concern. 

"Can I cuddle into you?" Syl asked after a moment, making her sister groan. Van had never been a touchy-feely person, even as a young child. "I know you don't like it, but…" She swallowed and they lost eye contact again. "I kind of need it." 

"Okay," Van said after a moment. Surprised, Syl looked up at her and smiled. 

"Thanks." 

"No problem," Van answered softly. Syl curled herself into her sister's side and felt Van's arm hook around her back. She closed her eyes and didn't fake this time. 

* * *

The next morning Syl had a tv, and Jondy was happily sitting in front of it devouring the last of Syl's cereal. Syl's books had been removed from the entertainment centre and stacked neatly against the wall. "Morning," Jondy said as Syl entered the room yawning. "What?" she added at her sister's raised eyebrow. "I got bored." 

Syl shrugged as she dug through her cupboards in the adjoining kitchen for something to eat. Van entered the room and made no comment about the tv, just sat down next to Jondy and crossed her arms over her chest, watching the children's cartoon with a deep scowl on her face. 

"Hungry?" Syl asked her. 

"You got any beer?" 

Syl let out a laugh. "Right." She pulled out a box of pasta. "I'm making spaghetti." 

"For breakfast?" Van asked. 

"Sounds good to me," Jondy piped up cheerfully. 

"We'll move out after we eat," Van said. "Have you packed yet, Syl?" 

Jondy stood up. "Here, I'll make food. Go ahead and get your stuff organized." 

"Thanks, Jon," Syl answered, smiling at her sister. She went to the bedroom and gathered up what was important to her, which wasn't much. Living with Zack had taught her to minimize, because there was always the chance of having to move out in a hurry, and all she really needed were the clothes on her back and her family safe. Syl felt a pang as she thought of Zack, not wanting to imagine the implants that had been placed in his body but not being able to stop her mind from doing so. A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away angrily. She was going to be 2IC for a while, so she and Van could take care of everyone. Then Zack would come home and everything would go back to normal. This was all just temporary, Van had said so herself. Syl clung to that, shutting off any part of her mind that tried to whisper about the defeat in Van's eyes, the careful way her sister had chosen her words. Zack was coming back and that was final. In her heart she knew it was true, and in knowing it, Syl knew she'd be okay for a while.   



	41. Chapter 40

Syl's cheek rested against the cool glass of her window. Next to her, Van's wrist rested lightly on the steering wheel of the sedan. Before them, the interstate stretched out long and straight and smooth. They were in Montana, just about to cross into northern Nebraska. Syl had slept most of the ride, waking up long enough to witness Wyoming, feeling strange driving through an area she hadn't set foot in for thirteen years. She knew they were just lines on a map, but still. It had meant something to Zack. They had never been this way before, having always avoided Wyoming and Nebraska, skirting them through surrounding areas, letting old memories rest. But Van was taking this part of the country head-on, fearing nothing. Syl liked to watch her drive. The expression on her face reminded Syl of how she looked like prepping herself for going into battle, but in a way that filled Syl with security, not the way that evoked memories of a place she wished she didn't have to call home. 

Van had been living in Wyoming for years, ever since she infiltrated Manticore through an entry-level position, gradually rising higher, pulling strings when she could, doing her bsest to sabotage any leads Manticore had on her brothers and sisters. She saved Brin from getting the highest form of reindoctrination, but she couldn't save Ben, couldn't save Tinga. Syl closed her eyes. Nobody could save them. They'd been driving in silence for the better part of an hour, but that was how Van always drove. Syl had missed her. After the escape, the unit had been divided, and Syl had obviously been put under the heading of 'Zack's kids.' She hadn't seen a lot of Van, only when she and Zack had their sporadic in-person status report meetings. But most of the time, the two worked independently. Grix used to joke that if Zack and Van were ever in the same place at the same time for more than an hour, it meant all hell had just broken loose. And after Van took the job at Manticore without permission or even a mention of it to Zack until it was too late, everyone was surprised, her kids and Zack's. Syl saw even less of her for a while after that, until Zack recovered from the betrayal. But Syl had missed Van. She was so like Zack but so not like him as well, and her presence was soothing, comforting. Reassuring. 

"I love you, Van." 

Van's eyes slid sideways toward her passenger and she put on a token smile, not unkind, just like someone who didn't smile sincerely very much. "You too." There was a brief silence. "Are you going to miss Canada?" Van asked. 

Syl shook her head. "Not really. It was just somewhere I went... seemed like a safe place where I could be sad for a while." She shrugged, cast her eyes out to the road again. "I was planning to move on sometime soon anyway." She waited for Van to ask where, but her sister said nothing more, as though she instinctively knew Syl had had no idea what she was doing or where she was going after that mission. She hadn't known what to do, where to go; she had been lost, wandering through her own grief without sight of any alternatives. She reminded herself that she hadn't committed suicide, but she knew that was a result of her weakness and not her strength. Before she had hated herself for it, but now, being with Van again, Syl felt relief that she had lacked that strength. She'd missed her sister and would have regretted not having the chance to see her again. Syl tried to remind herself that there were a lot of people who loved her. 

  
_"Syl," Krit grabbed her arm as he said her name, his voice almost a plea. "Don't go." _

"I have to," she said softly, her eyes dry, her tears long since depleted after hours of crying. "I can barely get up in the morning, Krit." 

"And leaving is going to help that how?" he asked, taking her hand in his. 

"I need to be by myself," she answered, their eyes not meeting. "I need to sort out my thoughts." 

"I know you're sad, Syl. I know you miss Zack. But-" 

She was wrong. She did have tears left, and at the mention of Zack's name, they started again. She pulled her hand back from Krit and hugged her arms around her chest. 

"I miss him so much," she whispered. Thinking of him back at Manticore made her sick. 

"I'm afraid you're going to do something…" Krit trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. She gave him her eyes- it was all she could give him. They gazed at each other for a long moment. 

"I love you," she said finally. "I just can't stay here." 

"Please," he said. "I'll go. I just need to know you're safe." 

"I need to move around," she insisted. She wanted to recapture the life that she and Zack had lived when she'd first been found as if, somehow, she could find him in the process. As if he'd be waiting for her at one of the lonely hotels that waited in her future. She opened the front door and stepped off the stoop and into the yard. Krit stood in the doorway staring at her, almost longingly. "I have to go," she said. "I love you, Krit." 

"Where will I tell Van you've gone?" he asked- a final, desperate attempt. 

Syl didn't say anything for a few moments. "Tell her I've gone on a trip," she said. "I don't know where I'm going." 

"Aren't you going to check in?" he asked. 

"I don't know," she answered honestly. There was a long silence and then she said, "I'll try. Okay?" 

"Okay," Krit answered, though it was obvious he said it only because there was nothing else he could say. Syl turned and walked out to her car, climbed in and started the engine. She pulled out of the driveway and paused for a moment to kiss the tips of her fingers and press them against her window. She got away before Krit could realize her cell phone was still on the kitchen counter. 

  
"Krit called me every day for a while," Van spoke up, as though reading Syl's thoughts. Van was fixing her with a steady gaze and that's when Syl realized they were stopped. One of the state checkpoints along the South Dakota-Nebraska border. It felt like she'd fallen asleep, so jarring was her emergence into awareness of the car and the road and her sister here beside her. 

"He did?" she asked, her voice nonchalant. 

Van nodded. "Pissed the hell out of me. Always asking where you were. The first time he called it was three am and I told him I didn't have a fucking clue." She smirked a little. "Then I started looking for you myself and had your location pinned down within two weeks. Nobody would ever call Krit resourceful." She chuckled a little. Then there was a tap on the window and Van rolled it down dutifully. 

"Sector passes," the cop asked, giving them a wide smile once he took the time to look at their faces. Syl couldn't see anything but the back of Van's head, but she was certain her older sister was glaring at the man behind her dark sunglasses. Sweetly, she held out their passes with a not-quite-definable smirk that only she could pull off. Then she turned to Syl and let out a long breath of air as the cop skirted the vehicle, then banged on the back window to indicate to Van he wanted the trunk popped. She did so and Syl waited, not at all nervous. She knew Van would have their guns locked away in a securely hidden area of the trunk, likely a false bottom. 

The police officer came back to the window a moment later and fixed Van with a hard look. From behind him Syl frowned, her body tensing slightly for reasons she wasn't quite sure of. The officer waved his hand at Van in a beckoning motion. "Step out of the car please." There was a pause that the officer probably didn't even notice, but during which Syl read annoyance, anger, and confusion in her sister's movement as she reached to open the door. She stepped out of the sedan and the officer motioned for one of the other cops to cross to the other side of the car. He did, and opened Syl's door. She exited the car as well, and walked around to stand next to Van, who had affected an air of annoyed impatience. "What's this about?" she asked. 

"There's a problem with your sector passes," the cop answered, lazily. 

"What problem?" Van asked indignantly. 

The officer gave her a long look then just said, "ID please." 

Syl looked quickly to Van, who turned her head and said, "Grab our stuff from the backseat, Jenn." 

"Here," Syl answered, forcing her voice to be friendly as she handed their passports and drivers' licenses to the cop. He compared them to each other and to Van and Syl's faces, then handed them to his buddy, not giving any indication whether he considered them valid or not. 

"I'm afraid we're going to have to impound this vehicle for further investigation, and take you both in." 

There was a pregnant pause. "Oh?" Van asked, lowering her sunglasses to the officer for the first time. 

"Don't worry though," he continued. Syl watched his hand raise to brush Van's bare arm, trailing up toward the shoulder of her tank top. "I'll make sure you get a cozy cell." His fingers curled against the edge of her cheek. "You know," he added with meaning, dragging his eyes up and down Van's body, "I have the power to arrange for… special treatment." 

Van smiled. She smiled in a way that, even though Syl loved and felt completely at east with Van, still made her feel very, very edgy. She could see the cop tensing slightly under the smile as well, though she doubted it was a conscious reaction on his part. 

"There's something in the trunk I'm going to need," she said calmly. Too calm, Syl knew. The officer allowed her to walk to the back of the sedan. Syl saw his eyes watching Van walk away from him, but then the other officer stepped into her line of vision. 

He nodded toward the front of the car. "Hands on the hood and spread 'em." Syl swallowed but did what she was told. The sector cop pressed himself into Syl's backside and his hands roved along her upper body, first checking for guns and then moving over her breasts and lingering. She stiffened, her head turning in Van's direction automatically. The trunk was open and Van had disappeared behind it. Syl stepped sideways, trying to escape the officer's increasingly deliberate hands. 

"Hey!" he yelled, grabbing a fistful of her hair at the back of her neck, shoving her forward over the hood of the sedan. "Don't move unless I say so!" Syl's face stung from the impact, though she'd turned her head sideways to avoid a broken nose. She felt her hands shaking slightly as he resumed his lewd search of her body.P Syl heard the trunk slam closed as the cop's hands trailed down her stomach and over the edge of her jeans, pulling at the button. Now the shake was spreading across her body and she wasn't sure if it was a seizure yet or still just her own terror. Then the staccato sound of bullets broke the tense silence and his hands ripped away from her, his body crashing to the ground. His friend hit the pavement a split-second later and Syl reached her hand up in time to grab the shotgun Van had thrown to her. Syl caught the nearest sector cop in the shoulder as she heard the checkpoint booth's glass shatter under Van's fire. Syl slid into the driver's seat of the sedan and started the engine as Van crossed around to the other side, firing up at the towers as she moved. The instant she was in her seat Syl floored it, hearing Van drop the clip of her M-4 and reload. 

"I hate this fucking state already," she said, turning in her seat to check for movement. Syl glanced in the rear-view mirror and relaxed; it looked like the sector cops were more intent on calming the hoards of civilians who had been lined up behind them and dealing with their casualties than launching a pursuit. 

"We're going to have to get new ID," Syl said. Van held up their passports and sector passes, flecked with blood but otherwise intact. Syl grinned nervously at her, her body trembling more and more violently, though she tried to act causal about it. The car swerved in the road slightly. 

"Here," Van said, digging into the glove compartment for their bottle of tryptophan. Syl downed a few pills and fought to steady the car. "I'll be fine." 

Van nodded and after a few minutes Syl managed to get her body under control. Van leaned back in her seat, pushing her glasses up on her nose and letting her weapon relax in her grip. 

"I'd hate to see what would have happened if they'd tried to take your sunglasses," Syl remarked with a smirk. 

Van gave no indication that she was even awake, but then she answered, "Same thing that'll happen to you if you try to take them." 

Syl looked back in her mind on the long history of her stealing Van's sunglasses and then, after a momentary pause, she chuckled. "What, nothing?" 

Van made a face that was somewhere between a scowl and a smile, then said, "Fuck you." Syl's chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh and she nudged Van playfully. 

"Hey, don't push it," Van said, her voice going completely serious. "We had our fun, now drive." 

Syl rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. How far is it until Omaha anyway?" Her voice cracked slightly at the last syllable as fear rushed through her body again. 

"Depends how fast you can drive. We should be there by nightfall. Make contact in the morning." 

Syl nodded, swallowing hard. "Right." She paused, then glanced at her sister. "Look, maybe this is a big mistake." 

Van shook her head. "Shut up and drive." 

"No, seriously," Syl answered. "I don't think this is-" 

"I said shut the fuck up. We're not going anywhere, so suck it up and deal." 

Syl pulled the car onto the side of the road. "I changed my mind," she said firmly. 

Van pulled her sunglasses off. "I don't give a fuck. We did not just go through that fucking checkpoint to get cold feet and turn back. You know you want to do this and I'm not going to let you give up." 

Syl shook her head. "I don't know what I want," she muttered. 

"We'll sleep on it tonight," Van relented slightly. "But we're sleeping in Omaha." 

Syl glanced at her. "Deal," she agreed after a moment. Again Van laid her head back against the seat and affected an air of indifferent fatigue. 

"Van?" 

"What?" 

"I love you." 

Van sighed heavily. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she answered, and Syl couldn't help a smile as she drove the car faster toward Omaha.   



	42. Chapter 41

_"Here." Van held a pack of gum in her hand. "Chew this," she said. "Gotta keep those jaw muscles exercised somehow now that you've decided to become a mute." _

"I'm not a mute," Syl whispered, her voice tiny. 

Van raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you can talk after all." A small smile formed over Syl's lips and Van smirked. "So take some," she said, still holding out the gum. Syl slowly took a piece and popped it into her mouth, chewing silently while she stared up at her sister. 

"So Zack tells me you're going to be living with him for a while," she said. Syl nodded. "That's cool with you?" Again, she nodded. Van brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Because you know, if you wanted to you could come and live with me." 

Syl looked into Van's eyes, her own full of questions. 

"Well," Van continued. "You're about to go through a lot of stuff and I just thought you might want a girl around to help you through it." 

"Did you ever go through what I went through?" Syl whispered. 

"No." 

Syl smiled a little. "Then I think I'll be going into unfamiliar territory no matter who I live with." 

"It's your choice," Van agreed. 

Syl gazed at her hands for a few minutes, "I love you," she said. "But I want to stay with Zack." 

Van nodded. "I figured that. You've sorted bonded yourself to him or whatever." She touched the end of Syl's nose lightly, affectionately. "Don't forget, I'll always be around if you need me." 

Syl nodded. "I know." She smiled and put her arms around Van's shoulders and held her close. "I won't forget." 

  
Syl opened her eyes at dawn, surprised she'd fallen asleep at all. She rolled over to look at Van across the short aisle between their beds. The motel room was just starting to lighten from the rising sun, and Van was fast asleep. 

"Van," Syl whispered. Nothing. "Van," she said, a little louder. When her sister still didn't stir she frowned, reaching back to grab a pillow. It sailed toward Van's face but just before it hit her, her hand snapped up and grabbed it out of the air, throwing it back to Syl's side of the room. 

"I heard you the first fucking time," she said. "What?" 

"I thought you were asleep." 

"I was." 

"But you heard me anywhere?" Syl smiled. 

"I sleep lightly. What the fuck do you want at-" Opening her eyes for the first time, she grabbed the clock on the bedside table between them and spun it around to face her, "- 5:43 am?" she finished, her eyes already closed again. 

"I can't sleep." 

"Good for you. I can, so stop throwing shit at me." 

"Van." 

"Yes Syl?" 

Syl grinned. "I love you." 

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck you too, punk-ass." 

"No, seriously… I changed my mind." 

Van opened an eye. "No you didn't, you're just scared." 

"What am I supposed to say to her?" 

Resigning herself to the fact that this was going to turn into a conversation, Van opened her other eye and propped herself up on her elbow. "Well... you could start with hello." 

"After this long I feel like I don't have a right to even say that," Syl admitted quietly. 

"Maybe you don't," Van answered. "But why don't you let her decide that?" 

There was a silence as Syl considered this. Then she said softly, "Part of me wishes she'd run to me and give me a big hug and call me Mommy. Part of me expects her to be a baby when I see her." She brushed away a tear, laughing a little. "And part of me still doesn't quite believe I ever had one in the first place." 

"And part of you thinks she'll hate you?" Van asked, finishing Syl's thought easily. They locked eyes. "Yeah." 

Van considered that for a few moments. "If you met your surrogate right now, would you hate her?" 

Syl frowned. "No..." 

"And she has even less a claim on you than you have on this girl," she pointed out. A slow smile spread across Syl's face and Van smiled as well. "So get some sleep, punk-ass," she said, settling back into her own bed. "That way when you meet her you won't look like shit." 

"Fuck you," Syl said, laughing as she threw her remaining pillow at her sister. Van grabbed it and held it under her arm. "Now what are you going to do?" Syl rolled away from Van and fished out the first pillow from the other side of her bed. "So there," she said. Van shrugged and closed her eyes; Syl watched her for a few moments and then got out of bed, hopped across the small aisle, and curled in beside her sister. 

"Van?" she whispered. 

"You're welcome," Van answered, already anticipating her next words. Syl slipped her arm around Van's waist and gave her a squeeze. 

"I love you." 

"Sleep," Van answered, nudging backward a little at her. Syl chuckled softly and closed her eyes. 

* * *

Five hours later they were pulling into the driveway of a light green split-level house in suburban Omaha. Van cut the engine of the car and turned to Syl. "You ready?" Syl looked at her. "Yeah right." 

"Well, you're probably as ready as you'll ever be," Van answered. "So go on." 

Slightly panicked, Syl looked from the house to her sister and back to the house. "Okay... are you coming?" 

"Do you want me to?" 

Syl was quiet for a moment. "I don't want to go alone but I feel like I should." 

"It's your choice," Van answered. "I can come in the house, wait in the driveway, or pick you up later." 

"Come with me... and then if I'm okay..." 

Van nodded. "Alright." She got out of the car and Syl forced herself to follow. The walk to the front door was worse than any march through Manticore's halls had ever been. Syl reached for the doorbell, a glowing circle of orange light, and pushed. Inside, a series of melodious bells rang, and they waited. Syl surveyed the small porch, casting her eyes over a swing and a few potted plants. She reached past Van's shoulder to pull the cord of a brass wind-chime, then closed her eyes at the sound, a perfectly-pitched harmony of chimes. 

The door opened. A woman at least a decade older than Van, her eyes a motley of green and brown, like a forest inside her eyes, her light brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Bits of dough clung to her hands, which she wiped with the edge of a flowered apron as she smiled at them. "Can I help you?" 

Syl swallowed. She was tempted to say they were collecting donations for a local charity, but Van's form beside her forced her to tell the truth. "My name is Syl," she said, seeing recognition flicker through the woman's eyes, a change in her stance as she realized the gravity of these people on her doorstep. "I guess Zack told you about me..." 

"Yes," the woman said, finally regaining her voice. She stepped back a little, holding the door open. "Please, come in." Van entered the house first, removing her sunglasses. 

Syl took a breath and stepped over the threshold. Such a simple action for such a huge change in her life. She saw a grandfather clock, saw stairs with clean off-white carpet leading to the second floor, roses carved into the banister. She saw plants, a sunny kitchen in the back, a display case with a set of china dolls, their lips painted rosy pink. The sofa on which she was invited to sit was mauve, the carpet dusky lavender with sprays of burgundies and blues. 

"Zack told us when we adopted that this day would likely come," the woman was saying as Van took a seat in an armchair off to the side. "I'll admit I had thought the time had likely come and passed." She smiled. "I'm Jeanette." Syl quickly stood to shake her hand, feeling a little awkward here in this woman's house. Like an invader. 

"This is my sister Van," Syl told Jeanette. 

"We're big on adoption in this family," Van said, shaking her hand and giving one of her famous half-smiles. She and Syl sat back down as Jeanette smiled at Van. 

"I remember you," she said. "You've certainly grown." At Van's smirk she continued, "Tea? Coffee? Anything to eat? I was just making bread but it's not quite ready." 

"Tea would be great if you're making it," Syl answered, wanting something to hold in her hands, hoping it would help her calm down. Inside she was wondering where the girl was, realizing she could be just upstairs, around the corner, down the hall. 

"I'll have coffee," Van said. "Black." 

"Okay, I'll be back in a moment. Please make yourselves at home." Jeanette left the room and Syl turned to Van, suddenly panicked. 

"I don't know her name," she blurted, suddenly realizing this alarming fact. She'd never let Zack tell her and now that this moment was here she regretted it, bitterly. 

"Relax," Van said, with the hint of an order in her voice. "Her name's Nacolle, but everybody calls her Nicki." 

"Nicki," Syl repeated. It's not what she would have chosen, but it was pretty and because it belonged to her daughter, Syl thought it was beautiful. She smiled at Van. 

"You're doing good," she told her. Syl nodded her thanks as Jeanette re-entered the room with a tray bearing milk, sugar, a cup of coffee, and a teapot covered by a cozy decorated with cats and dogs. She handed the coffee to Van and took a seat on the side of the sofa opposite Syl. 

"Nicki's at school," she said. "But she should be home in about twenty minutes. She's very bright. And she's on the soccer team at school. Goalie." As she spoke, a slightly faraway look entered her eyes and a smile formed over her lips. Belatedly, Syl realized she was witnessing the look of a proud parent. She averted her eyes and removed the cozy from the teapot, pouring out cups for both herself and the mother of her child. "Zack used to visit every year around her birthday," Jeanette continued. "Until a couple of years ago, he stopped coming and he never called... we wondered what had happened to him." 

Syl studied her hands and opened her mouth to explain. 

"Some things came up and he wasn't able to make it out here anymore," Van cut in for Syl. "I came in his place but it was strictly just to keep an eye on her, not to make any contact. She didn't know me, so I didn't see the need." 

Jeanette nodded. "Well... I hope he's alright." When nobody said anything to that, she turned to Syl. "I can't believe I didn't see the resemblance right away," she said. "You look just like her." She gazed at Syl for a long moment. "I can understand why you gave her up," she said, her voice gentle. "You're so young." 

Syl felt uncomfortable, but she nodded. "I was only twelve when I got pregnant." 

"Zack didn't talk about you very much to me and David when he was here, and we only have the one picture of you. It was hard to decide how old you were. I guessed fifteen or sixteen, but twelve..." She shook her head, then gazed at Syl. "It's your eyes. They make you look older." 

Syl glanced at Van, then back to Jeanette. "Do you think Nicki will want to meet me?" she asked finally, bracing herself. 

Jeanette smiled. "I think she'll be thrilled," she said. "She used to talk about it a lot when she was little… When Zack stopped visiting she didn't understand why, and of course we didn't really know what to tell her about it except that we were sure he'd come when he could. But she used to tell me she wanted to meet you all the time, especially after one of his visits. I think he told her things about you, what you were like and what you might do together once you were ready to meet her." 

Syl's eyes widened slightly and she turned her head to Van just in time to see her sister start to chuckle. Subconsciously, Van reached up to push her sunglasses up on her nose, but she'd forgotten they weren't there. She scratched the bridge of her nose lightly instead, stifling a smile of 'I told you so.' Syl turned back to Jeanette. "That's..." She trailed off, gathering her thoughts. "That's good to hear. I was scared that she wouldn't want to see me… or that she'd be mad at me." 

"No," Jeanette said firmly. "We always made sure to tell her that you gave her up because you loved her, not because you didn't. Zack only reinforced that idea. I think she has the normal confusion of any adopted child as to why she wasn't kept, and maybe a little bit of resentment, but nothing like what you're worried about." She smiled. "I think this is going to be one of the most exciting days of her life." 

"I hope I live up to her expectations," Syl answered, swallowing. She jumped slightly as Jeanette's hand covered her own. 

"You're her mother," she said gently. "You don't have to." 

"No," Syl answered firmly. "You're her mother." 

Jeanette smiled, her eyes suddenly moist. "Thank you," she said softly. She opened her mouth to add something, but before she could the front door opened. 

"Mom!" a girl's voice called. "Whose car is that?" Jeanette stood as Syl heard the sound of shoes being kicked off, a schoolbag being dropped. Then she was standing in the doorway, a younger version of Syl with subtle differences- a red tint to her hair, eyes dancing with light, cheeks a little rosy from running up the driveway. Her eyes saw Van first and she frowned. 

"I know you." 

"Smart kid," Van said under her breath as Jeanette put a hand behind her daughter's shoulders. The girl's smile faded with the realization that something very important was about to happen. She was guided into the living room by her mother as Syl stood up. Syl could tell that Nicki knew immediately who she was looking at. 

Unable to think of anything else, Syl said, "Hello." 

"You came," Nicki answered. She turned her head to look up at her mother, smiling like a child who has just been given a new toy for no reason. "She came." 

Jeanette smiled down at her. "Why don't you take her up to your room so the two of you can talk?" 

"Okay," Nicki said. She reached out and took Syl's hand. The touch of her daughter's skin to her own was powerful enough to cause a lump to immediately form in Syl's throat. She swallowed it down, the moment gone almost as soon as it came, this first touch of a human being who used to be a part of Syl's own body. Then she was being pulled up the stairs and into a room larger than any bedroom she had ever called her own. The bed had a frilly pink skirt, some type of cartoon character running across the sheets in rows. There was a rug of pastels spread over the cherry-wood floor, toys scattered around, a bookshelf, dresser, mirror, and a little desk with some papers that looked like poems written in a child's hand. Nicki sat on the bed, watching Syl, as though waiting for her to approve the room. 

She said, "It's nice," and the girl beamed. Syl couldn't help but smile back. "So you mom told me you have a picture of me." 

"Yeah." Nicki turned to her bedside table and opened the drawer. From inside a notebook she pulled out a photograph, lined and wrinkled from age and much handling. She gave it to Syl and she laughed, could remember Zack taking this picture. One of the few he ever took at all. 

"He told me you'd visit when you were ready." 

Syl nodded. "I'm sorry it took so long." 

"Where did he go?" she asked, ignoring Syl's apology. 

She hesitated. "There was an accident, and some things he had to take care of. He was very busy." 

"He looked after other people too," Nicki said. "He told me that." 

Syl smiled. "Yes." 

"He never said goodbye." 

"He didn't know he wouldn't be coming back." 

"Is he dead?" she asked, her eyes serious. 

Just as serious, Syl told her, "We don't know." 

Nicki considered this as Syl started to relax. This wasn't as hard as she'd thought it was going to be. "I have a lot of questions," she said. 

"I'll try to answer them," Syl promised. 

"You're not as tall as I thought you were going to be." 

Syl made a face. "Why does everybody say that?" They smiled at each other, matching grins, though Nicki's looked more natural on her face than Syl's did. 

"Who's that lady downstairs?" 

After Syl got over the fact that someone had called Van a lady she said, "Her name's Van… she's my sister." 

"She doesn't look like you." 

"There's more to family than blood," Syl pointed out. "You know that." 

Nicki smiled, accepting this. "So was Zack your real brother?" 

"Just as much as Van is my real sister, or your parents are your real parents." 

Nicki smiled and laid down on her bed. She reached for a stuffed animal, a lion with one bent whisker and a soft mane. She hugged it to her chest. "Tell me about the day I was born." 

"I went to the doctor's early in the morning. Zack took me. You were trying to come out before we even got there, you were so excited to see everything outside me." Syl saw the girl smile and continued, "We managed to get there in time, and they took me into a room. They delivered you and Zack told me you were a girl. Then they checked to make sure that you were healthy and you were okay, and then they gave you to your parents so they could take you home." 

"Did you see me?" 

"Today is the first day I've seen you," Syl answered quietly. 

"Why didn't you want to hold me?" 

"I was afraid I'd want to keep you if I held you." 

Nicki's brow furrowed just like Syl's did when she was concerned about something. "Why didn't you want to keep me?" 

"Because I was very young," Syl told her. "And I wanted you to have a better life than the one I could give you." 

"Is that why you haven't come to visit me until now?" 

"Partly," Syl admitted. "I was also scared that you wouldn't want to see me." 

Nicki smiled. "Didn't Zack tell you I did?" 

"Yes... but sometimes I thought he was saying it to make me feel better." 

"He told me you loved me and you wanted to see me but that you had things to do before you could come." 

Syl smiled. "I did. I had to grow up." 

"So do you want to keep me now?" Nicki asked. 

"Part of me does," Syl answered, a little surprised by the question. "But I'm also happy to see how nice your mother is and what a good house you're in." 

"Maybe I could visit you," Nicki said. "I know lots of kids with two sets of parents." 

Syl smiled. "I'm sure we could arrange that," she said, liking the idea so much that it scared her a little. Nicki put her lion down and crawled forward on the bed. She put her little arms around Syl and hugged her tightly. With a lump rising in her throat, Syl held the child close to her. She had a sudden pang of desire for Zack to be here with her now and witness this, but it was soon overshadowed by her happiness at having her daughter in her arms. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the hug, not wanting to let go. Tears spilled down her cheeks and into Nicki's hair, but the girl said nothing about them, just content to hold onto the mother she'd dreamed about for as long as she could remember. And for once in her life, Syl was gaining something as she cried, instead of losing it. 

When they finally released each other, Nicki allowed Syl to brush away her tears without comment, understanding the overwhelming significance of this moment for her birth mother. They sat in silence for a short while as Syl collected herself enough to speak. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep you. We weren't safe at the time, there were people looking for us who would have wanted you too, and we couldn't let that happen." 

"It has something to do with the barcode, doesn't it?" Nicki asked. Syl looked over at her in surprise. "Zack told me the barcode on his neck was a special mark and that even if I didn't have one on the outside, I had one on the inside because I was like you." 

Syl closed her eyes. "Did he say what he meant by that?" 

"No," she said. "But he always said it when he was talking about being careful telling people how fast I can run or doing too well in school. He talked about people looking for him too, sometimes." Swallowing, Syl gathered her hair up in her hands and piled it on top of her head, turning. 

"I have one too," she said. She felt cool, tiny fingers graze the black lines and shivered slightly. 

"Yours is different than his was." 

"You remember it that well?" Syl asked, turning back around. 

"I remember everything," Nicki answered. The two of them gazed at each other for a long moment, their expressions equally serious. "Van has one too?" 

"Yes," Syl answered. 

"Where did you get them?" 

"We were born with them." 

Nicki frowned. "Where were you born?" 

Syl smiled a little. "Not too far from here," she said. 

"But where?" Nicki asked impatiently. 

Syl reached over and touched the edge of her daughter's cheek lightly. "I can't tell you everything right now. It's too hard to explain. But I promise you'll know everything when you're older." 

"You were all born in the same place, though?" 

"Yes. We left when we were little." 

"Did you ever know your parents?" 

"No." 

Nicki smiled. "And Zack looked after you too?" 

"He made sure I wasn't in bad situations," Syl agreed with a small smile. 

"Was where you were born a bad situation?" 

"Yes." 

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?" Nicki asked. 

"Eleven." 

"What are their names?" 

Syl smiled. "Well... there's me, Zack, and Van who you know. And then I have five more sisters- Tinga, Brin, Max, Jondy, and Grix. And four more brothers. Tosh, Krit, Ben, and Zane." 

"I like their names." 

"Me too," Syl answered with a wide smile. 

"And they all have barcodes too?" 

"Yup." 

"Can I meet them?" 

"Eventually, yes. And you have a cousin too. His name's Case, he's Tinga's son. He's a bit younger than you." 

Nicki smiled. "I want to meet him too." 

"Someday," Syl answered. 

"Tell me about your brothers and sisters," Nicki said, leaning back against her pillows. Syl crawled up beside her and put her arm around the girl's shoulders. 

"Who do you want to hear about first?" 

"The one with the little boy," Nicki said. "Tinga." 

Syl smiled. "Okay. Well, Tinga had-" 

"You have to start with 'once upon a time,'" Nicki interrupted. 

"Okay," Syl answered, chuckling softly. She cuddled her daughter a little closer. "Once upon a time there was a beautiful girl with long brown hair and calm dark eyes. She was really patient, and she had an amazing laugh that was very special because she hardly ever laughed." 

"Why not?" 

"Because she saved it for special occasions," Syl answered. "She was good with her hands and she liked classical music. And out of all my sisters she took the most time in front of the mirror every day." Syl chuckled. 

"Tell me a story about you," Nicki said. Syl smiled at her, but before she could say anything more there was a soft knock on the door and Syl turned her head toward the sliver of light that slowly cut through the room as Van entered. Syl smiled at her sister and Van leaned against the inside of the doorway, holding her cell phone in her right hand. Syl could see it was on with an active line, and she gave Van a questioning look. 

"Tosh," Van explained in a soft voice. Syl's heart started beating faster. Now that she was looking for it, there was anticipatin, even excitement in Van's eyes. "He's found Zack," she said. Syl turned back to Nicki, who was looking between Van and Syl. 

"You found Zack?" she asked calmly. She smiled at Van's nod. "And he's okay?" 

"Mostly," Van answered. She glanced at Syl. "And once she gets through with him, he'll be fine." 

"When can I see him again?" Nicki asked excitedly. 

Van chuckled. "Give it a couple of months," she said. The girl's face fell disappointedly so Van added, "Then I'm sure he'll be just as anxious to see you." Nicki brightened a bit and Syl smiled at her, then turned back to Van. She glanced at the cell. 

"Is Tosh still there?" she asked. 

Van followed her gaze to the phone. "Actually, no... it's Krit. He called not too long after Tosh. I thought maybe you'd want to talk to him." 

Slowly, Syl reached out and took the phone. She looked up into Van's dark eyes and nodded. As she left the room, she heard Nicki ask, "Who's Krit?" Syl glanced back to see Van flop down on Nicki's bed beside her. The girl giggled as Van pursed her lips at her. "I like you're scrunchy face," she said, and Van rolled her eyes. "Who's Krit?" Nicki repeated. 

"Someone you'll get to meet in good time," Van answered. "Someone who's close to Syl." 

"Like a boyfriend?" Nicki asked. 

Van's eyes locked with Syl's and then she looked back to the girl and said, "Nah, something more than that," she said. Then she looked around the bedroom and raised an eyebrow at Nicki. "Nice digs." The girl grinned at Van, reminding Syl of herself at that age, when everything Van did and said was fascinating to her. She smiled as Van started making faces at Nicki that made the child burst into loud giggles, and then Syl closed the door softly and took a breath. She put the phone to her ear. 

"Hello?" she said, swallowing. 

"Hey, Syl," Krit's voice came back like it had been ten minutes since she'd heard it last, not almost ten months. She found herself smiling. 

"Hey, Krit." 

"How are you doing?" 

"Better. Did you hear about Zack?" 

"Yeah," he answered. "Tosh called everybody about it." 

"I'm scared," Syl admitted. 

"I know. You'll do great. If anybody can make him remember it's you." 

"What if I can't do it?" 

She heard Krit's smile on the other end of the line. "You will." There was a hesitation. "Syl... I was going to ask you this in person but..." His voice dropped in volume, becoming cautious. "I was wondering if we could try again." Syl didn't know what to say for a long moment. There was a nervous laugh on the other end of the line. "Nevermind," he said, almost choking on the effort to make his voice sound upbeat. "Stupid question, I'm sorry I even-" 

"No," Syl blurted, interrupting him. "No." 

There was a pause. Then Krit's hopeful voice, "No?" 

Syl tried to sort out her thoughts. "This thing with Zack... it's going to take a lot of time and energy." 

"I know," Krit answered. 

"But after... we could." 

"We could?" 

"Try again." She smiled a little. "I never stopped being in love with you." 

"I never stopped being in love with you either," Krit answered softly. There was a comfortable pause, then Krit asked, "Where are you?" 

"I'm in Nebraska," Syl answered. "With Van. Krit... we have a lot to talk about." She took a deep breath and forced herself to say the words she knew she wanted to. "I want to tell you everything." 

There was stunned silence on the other end of the line. "Everything Zack knew?" His voice was soft, as though the moment would break if he spoke too loud. 

A heavy weight lifted from Syl's chest as she said, "Yes." 

"I want to know," Krit answered. "Where in Nebraska are you? I want to see you." 

"Omaha," Syl answered. "Call when you get close and we can meet somewhere." 

"Okay," Krit said, sounding as excited as Nicki had when she found out Zack had been found. "I'll call you later then. I'm going to hit the road right now." 

"Okay, Krit," she said with a wide smile. "I'll see you soon." 

"I love you Syl." 

There was no hesitation. "I love you too." 

"Bye, Syl." 

"Bye, Krit," she said, and clicked off the phone. She turned to see Van standing behind her, and she handed her sister back the cell. They stood there for a moment, then Van opened her arms. 

"Come here, punk-ass," she said, rolling her eyes. Syl smirked at her and stepped into the hug, looking over her sister's shoulder to see Nicki standing in the doorway, watching the two of them. The girl gave her a soft smile, full of love. Van's hand stroked through Syl's hair soothingly. "It's going to be okay, chiqueta," she murmured softly. "Everything's going to work out now." For the first time since the mission on Manticore, Syl felt the truth of those words, and she let out a long, contented sigh, her body relaxing incredibly. 

"Syl?" Nicki asked tentatively. "Could you tell me that story now?" 

Van let go of Syl and nudged her toward the door. "Go ahead. I'm going to head downstairs and catch up with Jeanette. I haven't really talked to her since we asked them to take the kid." 

Syl nodded and watched Van go, then she turned back to her daughter. They returned to Nicki's bed and the girl climbed under the blankets. Syl sat next to her and ran a hand through her soft hair, so like Syl's own at that age, but there was so much more of it. 

"I don't tell a lot of stories," she informed Nicki. 

"That's okay," the child answered. "I haven't heard any of them so I won't have any negative point of reference." 

Syl gave her a smirk and said, "Well, that settles that," she joked. "You really are my kid." 

Nicki giggled. "And my face didn't give that away?" 

Syl laughed. "Yeah… just a little." She winked at her daughter and tried to decide where to start with the story. "So... once upon a time..." Faltering, she fell back on the template Tinga had used. "... there was a princess. She came from a dark place, full of scary things and people who were cruel and mean. She thought that this place was the only one in the world where she could belong, and she didn't realize that the world was a huge place, with lots of opportunities and possibilities." 

"Nobody told her there was anything else," Nicki said helpfully. "Nobody told her there were other things to see and do." 

"Yes," Syl agreed with a soft smile. "And there were things she did there that she didn't realize were bad, because she was encouraged to do them. There was only one thing she ever did that she got in big trouble for." 

"What?" Nicki asked, brow knitted in concern. 

Syl hesitated, but she forced the words. "She killed someone," she said finally. "Her brother." Their eyes locked, a youthful mirror of Syl's own brown gaze looking back at her, no judgement in them, only curiosity. Acceptance. She found herself continuing, "She was given a gun when her hands were very small, and when she was still afraid of things she didn't understand. She saw a bird and it scared her. She tried to shoot it but she shot Bram instead." 

"Why did they think you could do those things and not be hurt?" she asked, her voice full of disbelief and sympathy. Syl allowed it in, took the compassion at face value because it was form such an innocent. She couldn't convince herself that Nicki had any ulterior motives. 

"I don't know," she said honestly. 

Nicki reached up and swept her hand down Syl's face, stroking her skin lightly. "Go on," she said gently. 

Syl took a deep breath. "She was sent to an even worse place after that… a dark place that was a lot scarier than she'd ever imagined. They wanted to make sure it was an accident, see how it had affected her… study how she was feeling." 

"How long was she there?" 

"A while," Syl said quietly. "Time was hard to measure there." 

Nicki considered this for a while, and then asked, "But she was okay after?" 

"Yes," Syl answered. "She was very scared in the dark place, but when she was back with her brothers and sisters, she felt better." 

"Is that when you all ran away?" Nicki asked. 

Syl smiled at her, dropping uses of third person tense. "No... not quite. We ran away because a lot of us got seizures. And we knew that wouldn't be tolerated. We hid them for a long time, but eventually they found out. One of my brothers, Jack, seized pretty hard one morning, and they took him away." She hesitated. "He never came back." 

Nicki looked concerned. "And then they came after the rest of you?" 

"They were going to," Syl answered. "We knew they would, it was only a matter of time. A few months after Jack went away, one of my other sisters, Max, started seizing badly. The guards came to take her away. So Zack made a decision. He got us all out of there." Her voice broke slightly, and her daughter picked up on it. 

"Did some of them get hurt when they ran?" 

"Yes," Syl answered. Two sets of deep brown eyes looked levelly at each other. "Some of them died. Twelve of us made it past the fence and out into the world. We got split up..." She trailed, but Nicki listened attentively. She couldn't help but stumble over the details. "And by the time I was found, I was a few months pregnant with you." 

But Nicki wouldn't accept that. "Where's my dad?" she asked. Syl had prepared herself for this question but it was still a shock, almost like a tangible pain. 

"As far as I know, he's dead," she answered honestly. 

"What was his name?" 

"Joel," she said quietly. 

"Zack never talked about him," she said. "I figured he was dead. Did you love him?" 

"No," Syl answered firmly. "He wasn't a nice person, Nicki." 

"Why did you have a baby with him if he wasn't nice?" 

"Sometimes you don't get to choose who you have a baby with," Syl answered uncertainly as they lost eye contact. 

"I'm going to choose somebody nice," Nicki answered importantly. 

Syl looked back to her daughter and smiled at the child. "Yes. You will." 

Nicki curled into Syl's arms and closed her eyes against her birth mother's chest. "We don't have to talk about everything right now," she said. "We have lots of time." 

Syl smiled down and started stroking her hand through Nicki's hair, until until her daughter finally drifted off to sleep. Syl carefully eased herself down from her sitting position and laid down next to Nicki, laying next to her and closing her eyes. She went over the conversation they'd just had, looking for something she might have done wrong or said wrong. Surprisingly, she didn't find anything- she'd actually done alright. She had envisioned the conversation with her daughter about Joel a thousand times, and and every time it had ended in disaster, or at least with her breaking down or somehow emotionally scarring the child. 

But that wasn't what had happened at all. She had just answered the girl's questions, without detail or prejudice. One day, she knew, when Nicki was older and knew more about the injustices of the world, the girl would look back on this conversation and understand. Syl didn't have to spell it out, she realized. She just had to supply the information which would one day allow Nicki to spell it out for herself. In the meantime, she would work to form a relationship with this beautiful child who had once been a part of her own body. And at the same time, she would find Zack, and she would bring back to Nicki the only birth father who ever really mattered.   



End file.
